Hope: The 18th Hunger Games
by blackvelvet33
Summary: Ambrosius Tax has promised that the 18th Hunger Games will be exciting. A story of love and loss, of blood and sacrifice, of overdramatic summaries, and of just one victor. Who will it be? Rated T because it's the Hunger Games and for some language.
1. Prologue

_A/N: Hi! This is a repost of an old SYOT of mine that got deleted recently. I will be keeping all of the same characters and the plot will remain the same. Thanks so much for reading! ~ Lily_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, then I would be filthy rich and I would be busy chowing down on my lifetime supply of chocolate instead of writing fanfiction. _

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**Hope- The 18****th**** Hunger Games**

Prologue

Ambrosius Tax smiled a cold, deadly smile. His dark eyes flashed in satisfaction as, after a final stroke, he laid his pen down and gazed at the plans for the 18th arena he had created. He would, of course, have to make modifications after learning the identities of the 24 tributes that would be thrust into it. Their weaknesses were simply tools that he could use for the entertainment of the Capitol: assets he did not intend to waste.

He rose from his chair, gathering his papers and locking them in a sliding panel inside his desk. The plans for each arena were top secret information, known only to himself, his fellow Game Makers, and President Ezekiel Snow. Indeed, the Game-Making Centre was hidden deep under the Capitol- below even the passages where the city workers labored. They couldn't risk the plans for the Games being released. This would give potential tributes some warning about what they could be facing and, in turn, it would give them hope. And hope simply could not exist. Not after the Dark Days.

Ambrosius could remember the war against the districts as if it had ended the day before instead of 18 years previously. He had been Snow's right-hand man, brought up to the position not by his wealth, but by his objective understanding of human nature. He knew about the emotions that controlled those around him, though he had never felt them himself, and so he knew how to manipulate them. It had been he who had suggested the obliteration of District 13 as a way to frighten the other districts into surrendering. Its smoldering remains continued to keep any hope for the citizens of the districts at bay.

_Hope_. Yes, this, he thought, was the secret to power. When the districts had rebelled, they had thought that they stood a chance at winning and overturning the Capitol. And they nearly did just that. But once the Capitol had finally gained the upper hand and decimated District 13, they lost their will to fight. President Snow had agreed that there was a need to prevent the districts from ever finding their cursed _hope_ again, and so Ambrosius had created the Hunger Games.

They were perfect. Memories and sights of their fellows fighting to the death served as a constant reminder of the Capitol's power to the citizens of the districts. Rewarding the winner's district with a year's supply of food created a rivalry between the districts that almost nothing else could. And most importantly, by murdering children, the Capitol would touch each of Panem's generation with the same horror that their forefathers had felt, watching their friends die in battle.

But it had been 18 years since the Capitol had regained dominion over the districts. There were still seven years until the first Quell, and the previous year's desert had left far too many tributes dying tedious deaths from dehydration. This year, the games would be _exciting_. Ambrosius would make sure of that.


	2. Districts 1,2, & 3 Reapings

**Hope- an SYOT**

District 1 Reaping

Brett di Angelo sat, his cold brown eyes surveying the crowd of teenagers from District 1. Next to him, his useless partner Kaleida was beaming at the cameras, running her fingers through her perfect golden hair. He hated the years when he had to work with her. The only advice she ever gave their tributes was how to keep one's skin looking flawless in the arena. He sighed and glanced at his watch, wondering when the reaping would start. The sooner it began, the sooner he would be able to go back to the game of solitaire he had begun on the train.

At that moment, District 1's turquoise energy ball of an escort walked onto the stage, waving happily at both the mayor and the cameras. Brett cringed as she took her seat next to him. It was torture to endure her endless stream of comments on the outfits of what seemed to be every person in District 1. He pretended to be engrossed in the mayor's rendition of the Treaty of Treason speech, just to avoid having to talk to any of his companions on the platform.

At last, District 1's mayor finished his speech and sat down, nodding to the escort to walk up to the platform. Beaming, she welcomed the entirety of District 1 to the 18th Hunger Games' first reaping and reached into the large glass bowl containing the names of every eligible girl in District 1. The girl who was reaped grinned and marched up to the stage when her name was called, but was then forced to exit, looking disgruntled, when a blonde-haired beauty in a gold and silver mini-dress flounced up onto the stage. She volunteered and introduced herself as Sparkle Shines, waving and winking at the cameras. Brett snorted under his breath. This girl looked like just another District 1 dunderhead.

After congratulating Sparkle, the turquoise-haired escort moved onto the bowl containing the boys' names. The boy who was called didn't even get a chance to move before a massive maroon-haired boy volunteered and climbed calmly onto the stage. He stood, tall and proud, as he introduced himself as Starling Morales. Brett smiled. At least he would have one useful tribute to work with this year.

District 2 Reaping

A brown-haired teenage girl, who looked no older than 17, sat next to a much older, brutal-looking man and a cat-like woman on the platform in front of District 2's Justice Building. The brunette, Larrisa Mazely, was silently mouthing instructions to a tiny but fierce-looking girl with long golden hair and green eyes who was standing in the 17-year-olds' enclosure. As she stared at the petite beauty, Larrisa gave an almost imperceptible nod. The girl smirked in return.

Just then, District 2's escort, a young woman with artificial whiskers and cat ears, rose and greeted District 2. It was almost impossible to hear the name that the escort read from the slip of paper over the chorus of shouts from eager volunteers. Suddenly, the small blonde girl leapt out over the rope barricade of her enclosure and vaulted onto the shoulders of a shocked 18-year-old boy before jumping from there onto the stage. She then snatched the microphone from the escort and said, very calmly, "I volunteer." She stood in her long golden dress, smirking at the astonished faces of the rest of District 2. The escort, looking very offended, asked her name, to which she replied, "Natalia Elvin."

After recovering her breath, the now red-faced escort reached into the boys' bowl and called the name of a 14-year-old boy, who calmly walked up to the stage, waiting for someone to volunteer to replace him. A powerful 18-year-old with spiky blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes swiftly did so. He introduced himself as Sef Frelwood. One could almost hear the sighs of the girls in the front rows as he smiled. As Larrisa surveyed her friend and Sef, she thought that District 1 might just get a run for its money in regards to attractive tributes. Though it was just her first year mentoring, she knew that these tributes had potential.

District 3 Reaping

District 3's reapings, thought Hayffie Marsuull, were surely the most boring ceremonies in the history of Panem. They seemed especially lackluster after those in Districts 1 and 2. District 2's girl had spunk to pull a stunt like her vault onto the stage. Hayffie longed to be promoted to a better district, but she knew that District 3 would have to have a victor before she was promoted. But honestly, what could she be expected to do with a district full of technological weirdos? She was getting sick of dressing tributes in electric yellow and lab coats.

Hayffie was drawn out of her reverie as one of her colleagues pointed out that District 3's mayor had finished his speech. All of the stylists traditionally watched the clips of the reapings together before breaking off to adjust the costumes they had prepared. Hayffie would certainly have to adjust the electrician costume she had prepared to fit the sickly-looking blonde girl who had just been reaped. The girl's pale skin had become even paler as she, visibly shaking, walked up to the stage. The stylists all shook their heads in sympathy as they watched Piper Alexander finally break down in tears as she saw the stoic faces of the rest of her district. Not one of them seemed to care that Piper would be going to her death.

After cheerfully congratulating the now-sobbing girl, District 3's escort moved onto the boys. A boy named Claude Astrovsky was reaped, and Hayffie grinned when she saw a tall, muscular 18-year-old with brown hair emerge from the crowd. The enormous boy looked almost comical, standing next to the hysterical blonde girl who had by now sunk to the floor. Though the blonde girl would look hideous in anything Hayffie put her in, the stylist thought that she could most certainly work her magic on the boy. Maybe she would be getting that promotion this year after all.

_A/N: The first real chapter! I don't know about you, but I'm excited! So… what do you think? Is it hideous? Should it be published and sell for millions of dollars? Just kidding. Really. Please, I need your feedback. This is my very first fanfic. If I've already introduced your tribute, please tell me how I did. Am I totally off base, or did I get them just right? I've actually already started on the reapings for Districts 4-6, so that should be up probably tomorrow or Tuesday. Just for fun, please tell me who your favorite tribute is so far. I'll send you virtual slices of German chocolate cake . Thanks so much for sticking with me so far. Love you all! ~Lily _


	3. Districts 4, 5, & 6 Reapings

**Hope- An SYOT**

District 4 Reapings

A tall young woman with sopping wet black hair sat, stony faced, as District 4's escort fished dramatically around inside the glass bowl containing the girls' names. The 21-year-old mentor, Cecelia Dawning, had been swimming just minutes before the ceremony started, trying to forget about the upcoming reaping. It was the same every year. They would make a big show over the selection of children for slaughter, she would get excited, thinking that one of them might live, and then she would be forced to watch their slow and tortuous deaths.

Cecelia's blue eyes, looking almost sunken in because of the massive purple bags under her eyes, scanned the crowd of teenagers, trying to discern which of them would actually stand a chance in the Games and which of them wouldn't even make it past the Bloodbath. Her eyes immediately lighted on a large, muscular 18-year-old boy with a booming laugh. She could see the determination in his blue eyes; she knew that this one would be volunteering this year. After mentoring for four years, Cecelia could tell which children had been trained and which ones would have the guts to put their names forth for the Games.

She looked up from the crowd as District 4's escort, an older woman with a toucan's beak for a nose and a matching feathered cap, finally snatched a tiny slip of paper from the bowl and walked over to the microphone. After the escort had read the name, Cecelia saw a severe woman in the back glare at a pretty brunette in a sparkly black dress who was standing in the 16-year-olds' section. The fair-skinned girl took a deep breath and said, "I volunteer." She then walked confidently up to the stage amid gasps of surprise. Clearly, no one in her district had known that she was a Career.

Cecelia thought that she could see a flicker of uncertainty in the girl's brown eyes as she introduced herself as Savannah Morgan. Perhaps the cruel-looking woman, who was obviously the girl's mother, had forced her to volunteer, not unlike what Cecelia's own mother had done. But that was ridiculous. If this girl actually had a soul, she wouldn't make it past the Bloodbath. None of the tributes that Cecelia liked ever did.

Cecelia's eyes flicked back to the flamboyant escort as the bird-woman reached her hand inside the boys' bowl. As the escort read the name off the tiny piece of parchment, Cecelia watched the dirty blonde-haired boy she had noticed earlier. Sure enough, the muscular boy volunteered in a loud, carrying voice and walked up to the stage to stand next to Savannah, giving her a winning smile. He then accepted the microphone from the escort and introduced himself as Jayce Holaway. He then whispered something into Savannah's ear, breaking her stony demeanor and making her giggle. Cecelia sighed. Emotions were beautiful. They were powerful. They were precious. But they wouldn't help these two win the Games.

District 5 Reaping

Archer Casewood stood in the 15-year-old boys' enclosure, staring up at the stage that had been erected in front of District 5's Justice Building, wondering when on earth the reaping would start. His eyes landed on a beautiful girl with dark brown hair, pale skin, and perfect red lips as he laughed at one of his friend Vince's jokes. When she turned around and caught him staring at her, he smirked and raised an eyebrow. She glared in return and whipped around to face her gaggle of giggling friends.

"What was that about?" Vince asked, also smirking. "Checking out Miss Popularity, are you?" Archer scoffed in reply. He would never feel anything towards the girl who was so shallow that she needed a posse of so-called friends to follow her around everywhere, doing her bidding. Why would he even think about Rosalie Aduriza, the girl who controlled the district and made sure that everyone knew it? But when he caught himself once again staring at Rosalie, he shook his head vigorously to rid himself of any stupid thoughts. She was _Rosalie_, for heavens' sake!

Vince had to elbow Archer hard in the side to get him to realize that District 5's escort had risen from her seat and walked up to the microphone. Smiling and revealing teeth that had been dyed all colors of the rainbow, the escort reached into the bowl containing the girls' names and pulled one out. The poor 12-year-old who was reaped immediately collapsed into tears. Bawling, she allowed herself to be dragged up to the stage by two peacekeepers. Shaking his head in sympathy, Archer heard a shout from a volunteer. His eyes connected with Rosalie's for the second time that day as she repeated herself.

Archer felt a stabbing sensation in his chest as he watched Rosalie march up to the stage, patting the little girl whose life she had just saved on the back and introducing herself to the rest of Panem. She almost looked like a Career, standing confidently on the stage, her mysterious scar even more prominent than usual, running jaggedly across her left cheek. Perhaps she could win this thing. He could eat well for a year, at the very least. And he might be able to muster the courage to ask her out… if she survived.

He felt Vince tense up beside him as the escort moved on to the bowl containing the boys' names. Before he knew what was happening, she had snatched a slip of paper and called, "Vincent DeLoria." Vincent DeLoria. That was Vince. Archer looked up at Vince, horrified, as his friend's normally pale skin lost any color it had ever had. Vince then took a deep breath, muttered, "Don't do anything stupid," and walked up to the stage. As Vince stood next to Rosalie, Archer thought that they could easily be siblings. They had the same pale skin, dark brown hair, and grey eyes. But they would soon be fighting each other to the death.

District 6 Reaping

Ambrosius Tax sank into the red velvet armchair next to a similar one that was occupied by President Ezekiel Snow. The other GameMakers sat in the row of rickety chairs that were arranged behind the seats of Ambrosius and President Snow. Snow nodded to an Avox to turn on the massive flat screen television that was situated just in front of him. As the Avox did so, the dingy main plaza of District 6 flickered into view. The assembly had broken for refreshments during the brief break in between the reapings of District 5 and District 6. These officials traditionally watched the reapings together live so they could make last-minute adjustments to the Arena to accommodate the chosen tributes. As the Mayor of District 6 sat down after delivering the traditional Treaty of Treason speech, Ambrosius pulled a notebook out from underneath his seat and uncapped his pen, preparing to document the weaknesses of whatever pathetic tributes District 6 would be able to come up with.

Ambrosius watched Pelleni, his fuschia-haired cousin, rise from her seat, waving directly into the cameras, clearly hoping to impress President Snow and the rest of the officials who were watching her every move. Ambrosius rolled his eyes. "They get more ridiculous every year. I'm tempted to build a special arena and chuck all of the escorts into it. Too bad we've already decided on the first quell…" he muttered. President Snow nodded his agreement as Pelleni drew out a slip of paper from one of the large crystal bowls situated at the center of the stage. She then grasped her microphone and announced that a girl named Sierra Jackson had been reaped. Behind him, Ambrosius could hear one of the junior GameMakers typing furiously as he looked up Sierra Jackson's profile.

The cameras focused on a 13-year-old girl with blue eyes and long blonde hair pulled back in two childish pigtails. She had been standing by herself, looking downcast, but she brightened up as soon as her name was called. A wide smile was plastered across her face as she bounced up to the stage. Ambrosius wondered why on earth this weakling was grinning. Surely she didn't think that she actually stood a chance? Perhaps he would give her a particularly painful death. Yes, mutts might be nice… if she survived the Bloodbath. Somehow, he didn't think that was likely.

As he watched Sierra stand on the platform, rocking back and forth on her heels as she waved into the cameras, Ambrosius noticed a group of nuns standing in the back with a pack of smaller children who were obviously too young to be reaped. They looked almost relieved that Sierra had been reaped. Ambrosius didn't question this. The girl's voice was childlike and very irritating as she babbled on about how honored she was to be able to represent District 6 in the upcoming Games and how excited she was for the opportunity. Somehow, Ambrosius didn't think that he would be sorry to be rid of her either.

After jotting down his notes on mutts for the little girl, Ambrosius looked back up at the screen to watch the selection of the male tribute. A boy named Damion Wells was called and, unlike Sierra, he ran to the back of the assembly. Before Peacekeepers could seize him, he had hugged two adults who were obviously his parents and turned around to march back to the front. Two peacekeepers flanked him on the way up, but he walked onto the stage quite willingly. The 14-year-old cried silently as he stood next to Sierra, who looked questioningly at him. She asked him a question that Ambrosius could not hear, for she had given up her microphone, and Damion replied with an astonished and disgusted look. Damion stood there, resentment boiling in his brown eyes and his mouth still hanging slightly agape as the Mayor of District 6 gave the traditional concluding speech.

_A/N: Boy, am I on a roll! Thanks to all who have reviewed for your wonderful feedback. It's what's making me update so fast. __**To be able to continue with this story, however, I need a male tribute and a mentor for District 9.**__ I would like the male to be a bloodbath tribute. Please submit these ASAP. __Spots will be going first come first serve__. __**I also need a mentor from District 10 and a male tribute from District 12**__. He can be a bloodbath or a normal tribute- I really don't care. Please be as detailed as possible with the mentors' forms and make sure you include a detailed personality (i.e. NOT "funny, nice, charming, hot"). Thanks for your support so far, and please review so that I know what I'm doing well and what I need to improve. Love you all! ~Lily_

_P.S.- Please tell me who your favorite tribute is so far AND whose POV you like best- I need help deciding who to kill the fastest as well as whose POV to use the most. I will send you virtual bowls of special orange Jell-O! Thanks so much! _


	4. Districts 7, 8, & 9 Reapings

**Hope- An SYOT**

District 7 Reaping

Nutmeg Clearwater, the sixteen-year-old girl who had just been reaped, brushed past her two future mentors as she made her way onto the stage. Aspen Davis, a tall woman with cropped sandy hair, glanced up at the tribute. "Looks just like Sunshine's sister, that one does," she muttered.

Next to her, Dalton Awamutu, a slightly smaller man with tan skin and messy black hair, turned to fix her with a piercing glare. "Drop it, _Aspen_. No one could ever compare to my Sunshine."

"It's Jack, and you know it," the fierier mentor shot back. "And I'm sorry about your girlfriend but, seriously, it's been a year. You should be able to hear her name without crying your eyes out." Her look softened slightly before she added, "And I really am sorry, you know."

Dalton nodded his forgiveness before turning to examine Serena- no, _Nutmeg_. It was true that this girl's wavy brown locks looked almost familiar but, as she turned to smile uneasily at her future mentors, he saw that her chocolate brown eyes looked nothing like those of Serena Darlington, Sunshine's sister. This girl's eyes held none of the passion that the Darlingtons' silver ones had emitted. Though she was quite pretty and she had the air of someone who had been trained, she was small and underfed, and the silent tears streaming down her face wouldn't help her get sponsors.

So, Dalton sincerely hoped that this Nutmeg girl was stronger than she looked... Sunshine certainly had been. She had been so sweet and smart, but she had had a silver tongue to match her beautiful eyes. Her laugh and her golden hair had been lovely, too…. Indeed, she had provided the only _sunshine_ in his life since he had won his Games.

Dalton smiled briefly at his own pun before a poke from Jack brought him back to reality. After congratulating the Clearwater girl, whom, he reminded himself, he should be focusing on _instead_ of Sunshine, the escort had moved on to a second bowl to select the male tribute. A boy called Desmond Chordus was reaped. Dalton smiled grimly as a powerfully build boy with curly brown hair, who looked at least 16 or 17, made his way up to the stage from the 15-year-olds' section. The boy was marching quietly and steadily, though Dalton could easily hear the wails of two adults who were clinging to each other in the back of the assembly. The boy might stand a chance if he didn't show the weakness that his parents were exhibiting.

As Nutmeg and Desmond shook hands, Dalton could see a maniacal grin of anticipation on Jack's face- a look that only the thrill of the Hunger Games gave her. She was clearly already thinking of advice to give these two unlucky souls. With her help, the boy _might_ make it. Maybe.

District 8 Reaping

The brightest object in District 8's main plaza was clearly its escort, Veria Kilduff. The woman was blue. Her skin was blue. Her eyes blue. Her hair was blue. Even her _teeth_ were blue. They were quite unnerving as she smiled into the cameras, fidgeting in her seat as the mayor flipped from page 23 to page 24 of the Treaty of Treason speech. She thought that it was _dreadfully_ boring. Reaping Day was supposed to be a time for celebration, not for tedious addresses. But if she ever told anyone that, it would be _such_ a scandal. After all, it was her duty to be respectful and loyal to the Capitol. Even if that meant sitting through a speech that she could recite word for word. She actually could- she had done it two years ago when the mayor had been sick on Reaping Day.

At last, the mayor finished the standard oration and signaled for Veria to begin the actual reaping. Smiling widely and revealing her unnaturally azure teeth- even her _tongue_ was blue!- she greeted District 8 in her carefully perfected Capitol accent. She had had to practice for _hours _to get it right. After all, it did make her sound _ever_ so classy, and she knew that President Snow and the GameMakers were watching her every move back in the Capitol. She desperately longed for a promotion. District 8's factories were just so _dirty_!

Still smiling, Veria moved on to her very favorite part of the ceremony- the selection of the tributes. After moving her hand dramatically around inside the girls' bowl, she drew out a tiny slip of paper and returned to the microphone to read it. In a sickeningly cheery voice, she announced that Miss Spencer Fields had been selected for the honor of representing District 8. Her face then promptly fell when she realized that the mayor's daughter had just been reaped by her hand and that she would the consequences if Spencer died. This day was not going as planned.

Instead of crying the way most 12-year-olds would when told of their imminent death, Spencer smirked and walked confidently up to the stage, her pale blue eyes shining in anticipation. Veria's smile was quickly restored to her face. One of the tributes was actually _grateful_ for the opportunity that they had been given. Clearly, this one was sensible.

But she couldn't afford to spend too much time thinking about the little blonde girl who was now standing next to her. Clearing her head and widening her smile even more, Veria moved on to the bowl containing the boys' names. Her eyes scanned the crowd for Andy Perez, the lucky young man who would be representing District 8 alongside Spencer. But Andy Perez would hardly qualify as a young man. The boy was even smaller than Spencer, with tan skin, black hair, and hollow cheekbones. The crowd had parted to form a pathway to the stage, but he just stood there, quivering, as the entirety of District 8 stared at him. When Veria sighed and nodded for two Peacekeepers to go ahead and get the boy up to the stage, tears started to roll down Andy's cheeks.

When at last Andy had been coaxed onto the stage, a slight frown crossed Veria's normally cheerful face as she surveyed her two tributes side-by-side. It was clear that, once again, District 8 would lose the upcoming Games. It hadn't had a victor yet, so these 12-year-olds had absolutely no chance of surviving. That was a shame. Veria would have to wait another year for that promotion.

District 9 Reapings

Reclining in her armchair, Elnora Hansen waited for the iced lemonade she had ordered to be delivered by her Avox. Watching the recaps of the reapings throughout Panem was thirsty work. She had sponsored at least one tribute for each of the 17 Games that had been held since the Dark Days, but she had yet to pick a victor. She was determined that, this year, she _would_ get it right. After all, she wasn't sure that she could stand cranky old Phyllis's bragging for another year. Contrary to Elnora's failures, Phyllis had only missed two victors- Anastasia from the 8th games and that di Angelo boy from the 5th. The latter was the only year that Elnora had actually beaten Phyllis. Elnora had at least bet on the 4th place girl; Phyllis's pick had died in the Bloodbath.

Elnora had been taking detailed mental notes on each tribute during the reapings. That way, she would know which ones to look out for during the Opening Ceremonies and the interviews. The tributes from 1, 2, and 4 had been impressive, as usual- especially the male from 2. If she was fifty or sixty years younger…... no, make that seventy. But the boy _had_ been quite handsome. The male from 3 and the girl from 5 had made an impression, too. That girl had guts to volunteer. Perhaps she would make a good bet…

Elnora shook her head to rid herself of those thoughts. This was exactly how she ended up losing vast amounts of money and dignity every year. Accepting the glass of lemonade, she glanced up at the screen to see if they were through with 8 yet. Their tributes were pathetic. Even _she_ wouldn't be dumb enough to waste money on two tiny 12-year-olds.

At last, Bernard Flickerman's smiling face reappeared on the screen, announcing that the reapings in District 9 were now taking place and that viewers would be able to watch them live. The screen dissolved to show the Justice Building in the grain district, where an enormously fat man was greeting Panem in a booming, jovial voice. After finishing the standard greeting, he reached his hand into the bowl containing the girls' names. He dramatically selected one of the miniscule slips of paper but, as he made to draw his hand out, he found that he couldn't fit his closed fist through the opening of the bowl. Elnora could practically hear the shrieks of laughter that were most certainly erupting throughout Panem.

Blushing furiously, the man tried to twist his wrist to extract it from the bowl, but to no avail. He ended up accidentally smashing the delicate glass bowl against the podium in his efforts. Showers of paper came raining down onto the assembly. Children tried desperately to grab slips of parchment on the off-chance that they would take their own names out of the running. The chaos seemed to temporarily pause as everyone read the names that they had managed to grab. Then the uproar suddenly peaked when it was revealed that, written upon every single slip of paper, was the same name: Leila Vaneil.

A girl with long wavy auburn hair and enormous green eyes blanched; this 16-year-old was obviously Leila Vaneil. The long, jagged scar that ran down the right side of her face was obvious against her pale skin as a force of no less than ten Peacekeepers rushed at the girl. A boy who looked just too old to be reaped tried to fend them off, but he was soon beaten down. After screaming at the sight of the boy's crumpled body, the freckled girl allowed herself to be dragged up onto the stage, where silent tears of horror rolled down her cheeks.

Meanwhile, the escort, who was still blushing furiously, was trying desperately to gather up the shards of glass that had been scattered everywhere when the bowl smashed. He couldn't afford to be blamed for a tribute's injury prior to entering the arena. Once he was finished with the bigger pieces, he looked around questioningly to see how he should go about selecting the male tribute. Sighing, District 9's mayor rose, grabbed the first slip of paper that he touched, and handed it wordlessly to the escort. He announced that Bradley Truell had been reaped before trying to hide himself behind the podium, ashamed of his mistake. Needless to say, the attempt failed miserably.

No one seemed to be paying a bit of attention to the 18-year-old with brown curly hair who was slowly making his way to the stage, but Elnora was. The boy was tan and muscular from working in the fields, and she swore that she could see potential in the way he climbed the steps. He could be a victor. If her husband was still alive, he would've called it baloney and refused to even look at Bradley. She had always disagreed, but he had always been right. She would just have to wait and see what the rest of the districts had to offer.

_A/N: Just one more set of reapings to go and then it's off to the Capitol! So, what do you guys think so far? Kudos those of you who have reviewed. You're seriously helping to make my writing better, and it really makes my day. __**For this chapter, I'd like you all to tell me who your favorite and least favorite characters are so far whose POV you like the best so far. **__**Any constructive criticism is always welcome, too**__**!**__ I'll be starting a voting system after the reapings are done and the people who've reviewed more often will get more influence on who will be the victor will be. If I've covered your character(s), please tell me what you think of them. I'm only human- I can't read your mind so, if you want to tell or ask me anything, please do. It can only make this story better :D. Thanks so much! ~Lily_


	5. Districts 10, 11, & 12 Reapings

**Hope- An SYOT**

District 10 Reapings

Helena Sawyer was probably the most sensible escort that one would ever have the misfortune to meet. While most were bubbly and sickeningly cheerful, she was not. This was probably because she was forced to perform the duties of two mentors as well as serving as District 10's escort. In 18 years of sending tributes to the Hunger Games, these simple farm people still had not brought home a victor. In the first few years, it hadn't mattered, but now that they were the only district without mentors, their tributes had an even smaller chance of winning. Even the savages from 12 had managed to bring home a victor- Jamee Lawrence from the 15th Games. So, Helena felt that she was perfectly entitled to be bitter about her lot in life. Most escorts loved the Games because of the few weeks of luxury and fame it brought them each year. But most escorts didn't have to send two children into the arena every year, memories of the tributes' deaths forever haunting them.

Being born and raised in the Capitol, Helena had obviously never competed in an Arena herself. But each year, a couple of months after the conclusion of a Game, she would tour the arena, trying to understand what fatal mistake led to the deaths of that year's tributes. In the lull between wrapping up one Game and preparing for the next, she devoted her entire being to learning more about how the Games worked, in the hope that she could finally bring a tribute home. Of course, this was only because it would significantly lighten her workload... right?

Helena had been zoning out during the mayor's speech, but she promptly rose as he sat down. Skipping the standard cheerful greeting, she walked straight towards the bowl containing the girls' names and snatched the first piece of paper that her hand touched. Walking back over to the microphone, she announced in a cold, collected voice that Gray Wilson had been reaped. A tiny 12-year-old boy screamed, and a tall 16-year-old ran to comfort him. Both of their tear-stained faces were directed towards a petite 16-year-old girl with brown eyes whose light brown hair was tied up in a ponytail. She mouthed something to them before glaring straight into Helena's eyes and walking slowly up to the stage.

Gray's slow assent to the stage gave Helena plenty of time to observe her. She didn't look frightened, but she did constantly glance over her shoulder at the sobbing twelve-year-old who had cried out. The gesture showed weakness, but she was taking it much better than last year's hysterical 13-year-old had. The girl was small and malnourished, but the anger in her eyes showed that she still had some spirit left to fight. That was good. Maybe she would actually survive the Bloodbath.

Once Gray had taken her spot stiffly beside Helena, the escort moved over to the boys' bowl. The slip she had selected bore the name "Tasi Merkava." Helena saw Gray's mouth fall open as a giant of a boy emerged from the crowd in the 16-year-olds' enclosure. He had to weigh at least 250 pounds, with his height and frame. But he took even longer to reach the stage than Gray had; he had a slight limp and was naturally slow. Tasi had long, curly, dark brown hair that was tied back in a ponytail. Helena made a mental note to tell his stylist to rectify that. One of her tributes eight years ago had gotten grabbed by his hair before being stabbed in the back by a Career. She couldn't let that happen again. Gray would have to keep hers, however. She had to make sure that the tributes were recognizable.

Tasi certainly would be. He towered over both Helena and Gray and was broader than the two of them combined. At least his size would make it easy for him to acquire sponsors. Gray would have to rely on her personality and training scores. Helena sincerely hoped, for Gray's sake, that she wasn't a typical District 10 savage. They were always forgettable in their interviews, no matter how much coaching Helena gave them. She couldn't allow these two to go unnoticed.

District 11 Reapings

Two tall women sat on a plushy red couch, nursing mugs of hot chocolate as they watched the recaps of the reapings for the second time that day. District 11's tributes had both retreated to their respective rooms, leaving their mentor and stylist free to converse. Anastasia, a 25-year-old mentor with a black ponytail and startlingly green eyes, tensed up as District 11's seal appeared on the screen, heralding the beginning of its reaping. Kim, the stylist with short dirty blonde hair, rubbed her shoulder consolingly. She knew that Anastasia was already struggling with images of the tributes' dead bodies- pictures that could become reality in just over a week. Kim had abandoned her last-minute preparations in the Capitol to support her best friend during the most difficult time of the year.

Though re-watching the reapings was painful, it was important for them both to get to know their tributes, and it was also essential to determing what sponsors in the Capitol would be thinking of their tributes prior to the Opening Ceremonies. That way, they would know what angle to play up with the tributes' costumes and interviews. Sighing, Anastasia straightened up and prepared to go through hell for the third time that day.

The District seal dissolved to show Anastasia herself sitting stiffly on the stage, her eyes glued on the back of District 11's escort so she wouldn't have to look into the assembly of anxious citizens. It disgusted her how people like her escort could turn something as horrific as the Hunger Games into a celebration. She distinctly remembered the urge to stick her escort with a knife during her victory tour. Anastasia smiled faintly at the memory. That wouldn't have done her reputation any favors, but it would at least have saved her tributes from the mental agony of spending almost every waking minute in the escort's company.

Anastasia's smile faded as the escort grabbed the piece of paper that had changed Chloe Chase's life forever. Chloe had insisted that everyone call her Cherry. _"It just fits me so much better, doesn't it?"_ she had said, giggling. Anastasia had to admit that it did. The 16-year-old was gorgeous, with red hair, almond-shaped green eyes, and a thin, curvy body. She was friendly and optimistic, reminding Anastasia of herself before she had entered the arena. Though Cherry was almost as small as District 8's tributes at only 4'7", she was quick on her feet and had been smart enough not to break down in tears when she was reaped. Anastasia could only pray that these skills would be enough for her to survive in an arena full of Careers who were out for blood.

Dante' Scott was the other tribute from District 11. A 15-year-old African American boy, he wasn't the brightest but he was strong and athletic. He was clearly one of the more "popular" boys in school, as he had been surrounded by friends, chatting animatedly, when he had been reaped. He actually hadn't heard when his name had been called the first time, and it had taken four more repetitions to get him moving. He had clearly tried to be strong during the walk up to the stage, but his stoic façade had been broken when he caught the eyes of his parents. He had broken down sobbing, reducing himself to Chloe's height as he had crumpled in despair.

Much as Anastasia felt for him, the 'gentle giant' persona simply wouldn't work for him. As tall and strong as Dante' was, the monstrous boy from District 10 had clearly claimed that angle. And Dante' couldn't afford to be second best after his show at the reaping. For him to get sponsors, he would have to knock the Opening Ceremonies and interviews out of the park. If he didn't, well... Anastasia's mental images of his coffin would soon become reality.

District 12 Reaping

Jamee Lawrence, District 12's only victor, was, once again, late for the reaping. When Ioana, her escort, had stopped by her house in the Victor's Village just before the reaping, Jamee had still been clad in her nightdress. On her way down to the kitchen, Jamee had stopped on the landing to gaze at the picture of her deceased mother. When Jamee had been reaped, her mother had been dying from a disease that only Capitol medicine could cure. She had personally killed half the tributes in the arena just so she could come home to her mother but, tragically, Mrs. Lawrence had died the night before she had won. With no family left and nothing to live for, Jamee had taken to reminiscing about her time both before the arena and inside it. The knowledge that her mother's last memory of her would have been her brutal murder of the female from District 7 still haunted Jamee.

After throwing on something that Ioana would deem "decent", Jamee sprinted headlong to the Justice Building, dropping into her seat just as the mayor rose to begin his rendition of the Treaty of Treason speech. Jamee smiled. She wasn't _technically_ late, so the Capitol couldn't punish her. That was the only thing that mattered nowadays. She didn't have any family or friends that they could target, and being thrown into the arena was the ultimate torture as far as the tributes were concerned. Though she had only won her Games three years ago, at the age of 16, Jamee was already numb to the world.

So, when 13-year-old Sea Jackson let out a squeal of fear when her name was called, Jamee didn't flinch. Of course, she pitied the little girl just as everyone else in District 12 did, but she had known that someone from her home would die and this girl was just a very unlucky face among thousands. Sea had long black hair, blue-green eyes, and tan skin just like the girl from District 4 in Jamee's games. She had killed that one with a spear. At least her death had been quick. Maybe Sea would be granted the same fate.

The other poor soul who was reaped was called Gerard Davis. Jamee had just resumed her counting of the floorboards on the stage when a shout broke the silence. A 15-year-old boy with tan skin and curly brown hair had actually been stupid enough to volunteer. He had a wild, maniacal look in his dark eyes as he ran up to the stage. The boy, Elijah Enstrom, was athletic enough, and he might stand a chance if he didn't allow himself to be drawn in by the chaos of the Bloodbath. The battle had the power to freeze one's muscles or to send adrenaline surging through one's system. Jamee recognized the look in his eyes- one of sheer desperation, similar to the one that the boy from District 1 had worn. He had died first, stabbed in the back by the boy from District 6.

Either way, Jamee didn't think that she would be getting a partner this year. The girl was too small and the boy too wild. It was a shame that they would have to die.

_A/N: I'm done with the reapings! *Does happy dance around dorm room* So, what do you think? I've introduced all of the characters, so I'd like to know if I wrote your character right. There is always time for character change/development. Along those lines, __**I'd like to know who your favorite tribute, other than your own, and POV was from **__**any of the reapings,**__** and also who your least favorite POV and tribute was. **__This will affect how much time I spend on each tribute and whose POV I use more during the time in the Capitol. Please, any constructive criticism is always welcome. It will only make this story better. We should be off to the Capitol in a day or two. ~ Lily _


	6. After the Reapings: Districts 2 & 3

**Hope- The 18th Hunger Games**

_Natalia Elvin, Age 17_

Miles away from where Sea Jackson's tearful family sat in District 12, Larrissa Mazely had her ear pressed to the door of Natalia Elvin's visitation room, trying desperately to hear the conversation within over the racket in the streets. In District 2, Reaping Day was indeed a celebratory day. No one had to work, and the "deranged" children from the Training Center who always volunteered removed any fear of the Games for the rest of the citizens. Plus, with the looks of this year's tributes, they could easily bring home a victor along with extra rations for a year. That was most definitely cause for a party.

But Natalia's parents clearly hadn't thought so. Immediately after the escort had formally ended the ceremony, they had marched into the Justice Building, her mother fuming and her father stoic. They had then gone straight into Natalia's visitation room, with Larrisa following closely behind. Natalia was now both her best friend and her tribute. She couldn't afford to let her be damaged before she had even boarded the train.

From Vassa Elvin's drunken shouts, Larrisa could tell that she didn't think too much of Natalia's decision to volunteer. _"You aren't ready, girl! You won't even last a day! Why couldn't you have been sensible and waited until you were 18? That way you might have stood a chance at repaying all I've given you. Does bringing honor to this family mean nothing to you?" _Even the powerful Peacekeepers flinched at the sound of Vassa's shrieks. She had quite a reputation for the destruction she could cause while in a drunken rage.

But Natalia didn't budge. Though she was dwarfed by her powerful mother, she had always stood up to her. Only her older brother had been able to prevent her from killing her mother the previous year. And so she replied instantly, venom in her voice. "_I'm stronger than you have ever been. When I win, I'll have a new family. And you won't be included." _

At Vassa's cry of fury, Larrisa and the two Peacekeepers burst through the door. There was no telling what an Elvin would do in a fit of rage. The sight that greeted them was indeed bloody. Natalia was breathing heavily, holding a knife over her mother's crumpled form. Vassa had clearly flung herself at her daughter, and had been met with dire consequences. Meanwhile, Mr. Elvin simply stood in the corner, smirking at the sight of his wife's corpse. He swept past Larrisa out of the room, with a simple "Good luck, Natalia."

Larrisa copied Mr. Elvin's expression. Natalia was fierce and unforgiving. There simply was no chance that she _wouldn't_ win.

_Sef Frelwood, Age 18_

Next door, Sef Frelwood reclined in his chair, totally relaxed and making good use of his charming smile. The room was packed with fangirls wishing him off. He was currently single, and they all seemed to want to be able to call themselves the girlfriend of a victor. After all, he was going to win. He had been training for this since the age of six, and he was deadly with any weapon that he might pick up. Except for the bow. But that was beside the point. Bows were for weaklings, anyway.

So he had no cause to be worried. For some strange reason, his little sister had been sobbing when she had come in, but he had quickly erased her tears with promises of gummy bears from the Capitol. They were a treat that his family had only enjoyed once when his cousin Trent had won the 13th Games. He was dead now, though. Something about wasting away since his girlfriend had died in his Games. Trent must have been weak, too. It was shameful that anyone in his family had let emotions get the better of them. Sef, of course, could turn his off with the switch of a button. He was deadly when he was in "arena mode."

Nevertheless, he still cherished the bracelet that his sister had made him for his first Reaping. That had been back in the old days when he wouldn't have stood a chance in the arena. Now, of course, he was more than ready. But there was nothing wrong with basking in the girls' admiration a bit longer.

_Piper Alexander, Age 16_

One train stop over in District 3, Piper Alexander wasn't quite as relaxed as Sef was. She was actually kind of worried. Hell, she was terrified. She was only 16! She wasn't ready to die! And Piper knew that she would. She wasn't pretty and she definitely wasn't outgoing, so she couldn't get sponsors. Growing up in District 3, she could survive in a city but anything with greenery might as well be a different planet. And fighting? Please. Any other tribute could do more damage with bare hands than she could with any weapon.

To make things worse, Piper was alone. She had grown up in an orphanage, and it wasn't like the workers there would waste time saying goodbye. They had more important things to attend to, like throwing a birthday party for little Mia. She was turning 6. Or 7. Or was it 8? Whatever. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. She was going to leave the world and nobody was going to remember her.

Wait a minute. Was she really already giving up? Though she had never known her mother, Piper knew that Thalia Alexander would be disappointed in any daughter who simply bowed to the Hunger Games. Piper knew that she didn't stand a chance in the Games, but she could at least go down with her head held high. So, for a plan…

She couldn't run. She couldn't hide. She couldn't fight. But she couldn't just _die_. She wasn't ready.

_Claude Astrovsky, Age 18_

Unlike Piper, Claude Astrovsky certainly wasn't alone in his visitation room. His girlfriend Katrin was sobbing in his lap while his friends Grey and Sebastian were busy recounting their list of things to do if any one of them ever got reaped. They had created the list on the day before their first reaping and they had continued to add to it over the years. Grey passed the list over to Sebastian, who kept on reading.

"_Number 63: Don't give up. Show those Capitol bastards what you're made of. Number 64: Make sure you try the lamb stew. I've heard it's delicious. Number 65: Ask Mr. Tax if he can drop a chocolate chip cookie into the arena for you on your birthday. Number 66: If he doesn't, flip him off. Number 67: Give shoutouts to Grey Loksund and Sebastian Harold during your interview. Number 68: Make sure you propose to Katrin before you go. Number…"_

Sebastian stopped reading, for Claude had given him a fierce death glare upon the reading of #68. "You weren't supposed to say that!" he hissed. But, thankfully, Katrin hadn't heard over her wails of despair. At his friends' bewildered glances, he whispered, "I want her to be able to move on after I die. It's much easier to lose a boyfriend than a fiancé."

But Sebastian and Grey weren't about to say goodbye to their friend forever on that note. They had agreed back at their very first reaping that, should one of them ever get chosen, they would be sure to have the best week of their lives before they died. But their time in the visitation room was running out, so they folded the list and presented it to him as his district token.

"It'll be make great bedtime story in the arena!" Grey shouted as two Peacekeepers dragged them out along with the still-wailing Katrin.

_A/N: I know, short chapter. And yes, I know that I promised that this would be up yesterday. I had this finished at 10:35 last night but, when I went to post it, I saw that the internet had already shut off for the night. Stupid boarding school. But I hope you like this chapter anyways. And yes, I'm aware that I skipped District 1. I have something reserved for them later._

_Please review and tell me what you think! The next chapter will be up TODAY. I feel like I owe you that much for slacking off over the weekend._

_~Lily_

_P.S.- I know I said that we'd be off to the Capitol in this chapter, but I figured that it would be easier to get to know the tributes this way. _

_P.P.S.- 4 hours of chemistry homework sucks. Just saying._


	7. After the Reapings: Districts 4 & 5

**Hope- An SYOT**

Mrs. Jacqueline Morgan was sure that her daughter would become the victor of the 18th Hunger Games. But Savannah wasn't so sure. Yes, she had been training for this since a very young age, but she definitely wasn't the strongest Career that had ever gone into the Arena. To add to that, she had only ever really trained with weapons. If it came down to it, she knew that she couldn't survive in the wild. Unless, of course, they were conveniently by an ocean. But what were the chances of that happening? They had already done that back in the 7th Games.

So, when it came down to it, Savannah thought as she sat in her now-empty visitation room, she didn't particularly _want_ to go into the Hunger Games. She had a perfectly respectable life right here in District 4, and her two best friends had only just left the room, dragged out, laughing, by two Peacekeepers. Savannah smiled. She would miss the pants off of Dana and Jason while she was in the Capitol. The three had been almost inseparable for as long as anyone could remember. They weren't Careers, but they accepted the fact that she was in training and they rarely mentioned the fact. Rather, they spent the majority of their time just hanging out and causing general mayhem in District 4.

But sometimes her mother would put her foot down at such "disgraceful activities" and would force her to spend the day training in their basement- a place that Dana and Jason jokingly called _The Pit of Doom and Utmost Destruction. _None of them had ever taken Savannah's training seriously. They hadn't known that her mother would actually force Savannah to volunteer.

After all, there was no reason for her to. She did well in her classes, was generally well-liked, and her family had plenty of money. There was no good reason why she couldn't have a perfectly normal life in District 4.

No good reason besides her mother's lust for power. Though Savannah was a general subject of admiration from some of the district's younger girls, she had never been good enough for her mother. She had always wanted be known as the mother of a victor and so she had forced Savannah, her only child, to volunteer for the Games at the age of 16.

And so here she was, sitting alone in her visitation room, just waiting. For what? She didn't know. To be perfectly honest, she just didn't want to think about what would happen to her in the Capitol. Would she become a monster like all of the other Careers did? Would she be tortured to death when the tributes from 1 and 2 found out her true views toward the Games? Would she even survive the interviews? She didn't know.

But whatever happened, she sure hoped that _Mummy Dearest_ would finally be happy.

Jayce Holaway's parents were a far cry from the power-hungry Jacqueline Morgan. They had accepted the fact that Jayce was training to enter the Hunger Games, but they had never thought that he would actually be _going._ To tell the truth, Jayce hadn't known either. Sure, he had volunteered every year since the age of 14 and had been training since he was 6, but he was only one of many boys who fought for the honor of being District 4's male tribute every year.

So he had actually been caught off guard when no one else had shouted after the call for volunteers. But he had quickly recovered both his confidence and his cocky grin. This was his year. He was 18 and he was ready. None of the other tributes would stand a chance against the killing force he could be.

When he had first thought that, he had been standing on the make-shift platform in front of District 4's Justice Building, his eyes locked on the enormous feathered cap that District 4's toucan-escort had been wearing. "_What do you reckon that old bird would do if she was chucked into an arena?"_ he had whispered to the girl standing next to him, leaning over so that the aforementioned hag couldn't hear him. At that, the girl- was it Samantha?- had giggled. At least his partner had a sense of humor.

It was a pity that he would have to kill her. Maybe one of the other Careers would do it before he had to. Though he would never let anyone know, he had a soft spot for those weaker than he. Of course, in an arena full of weak children, that might prove to be a problem.

Rosalie Aduriza couldn't be _nervous_. She was an _Aduriza_, the only daughter of the family that practically ruled District 5! She was _Rosalie_, the girl who had had the entire district on its knees since the day she had been born! She was the one whom every girl in District 5 envied; the girl who had a mob of "friends" who followed her around night and day, just to be close to her. She practically had 1/12 of Panem in her pocket. "Rosalie Aduriza" and "nervous" simply weren't words that anyone would use in the same sentence. Ever.

And yet she was. She couldn't control the GameMakers like she could control her mob of "friends", all of whom she had just kicked out of her visitation room. She needed time to think. So… for a strategy. She was smart, so she wouldn't be caught by traps. That would be useful, but it wouldn't keep her alive indefinitely. And she could find edible plants. Again, useful but not helpful if she was getting charged by a rampaging Career. She could throw knives, but other than that… in combat, she would be screwed. So _why_ had she thought that it would be a good idea to volunteer? Right. She had been curious about what they were like inside the arena. Well, she sure hoped that whoever said, "Curiosity killed the cat" was wrong. Sorely and totally and completely wrong.

Her musings were interrupted by the creak of the door of her visitation room as it opened. She looked up, surprised. Her parents had already been in to wish her luck, and she had been quite clear when she had dismissed her posse. So who could possibly want to say goodbye?

Archer. The one person in her life that she didn't know what to think of. The only person who had ever seen her show any compassion, on that one rainy day when she had saved him from his father's beatings outside the factory. She hadn't spoken to him since. So what could she say to the one person who knew that she wasn't always the hoity-toity, perfectly manicured doll that she made herself out to be. The only thing she could say:

"Why aren't you with Vince?" Vincent DeLoria was the other tribute from District 5. He was also Archer's best friend.

"Just left," Archer replied. His face was stained with tears and his voice shook. "He's pretty torn up about it." Rosalie just nodded at this. What could she say? In just over a week, she would be trying to kill the very boy who was probably crying his soul out next door. This, of course, left an ultimate awkward silence. Several moments passed before Archer spoke again. "So am I. And not just about Vince."

At these words, a wave of tears threatened to spill out of Rosalie's eyes. She wiped them away, ashamed. How was it that Archer could always break through whatever false exterior she wore? Whatever it was, it didn't matter. It was likely that she would never see him again.

So she just smiled and said, "Thanks."

And he left.

_A/N: I know, another short chapter. But shorter chapters mean faster updates! I hope you liked it. And yes, I will be skipping some of those tributes who will definitely be Bloodbaths. That will allow me to cut down on characters and make it less confusing. _

_Please review and tell me what you think! Thanks so much! ~Lily_


	8. After the Reapings: Districts 6 & 7

**Hope- An SYOT**

Just like Piper Alexander over in District 3, Sierra Jackson was alone. But she wasn't scared. Why would she be? She was going to the Capitol! She was going to be on TV! Even the nuns had been excited when her name had been called, though it had looked like they were trying to hide it for some strange reason. Two of them had stopped in for a quick visit, but they had hurried out because they had needed to go back to watch the other children. None of the kids from the orphanage had bothered to visit. They were probably just jealous. After all, she was getting the treat of a lifetime and they weren't. Maybe they would want to be friends with her when she came back from the Capitol. Who wouldn't want to play with a _famous_ person?

Even though she knew that she didn't have a chance at being the _extra-special victor_ that year, she was still excited. There were people in the Capitol who could make her pretty! She had never felt pretty before. She had always just been Sierra, the doughy girl with the ugly blonde pigtails. But the Capitol people could make her a supermodel, like they did with Larrisa Mazely last year. And the Capitol people would have to listen to her! No one had ever wanted to hear her talk before. They had always said that her voice was annoying. It wasn't _that _annoying, was it? It couldn't be. It was special. But she would get her three minutes with Mr. Flickerman when he and everyone in Panem would have to listen to her. And that excited her the most of all.

She didn't really want to go into the arena, though. There was mud and bugs and dirt and spiders in there. It really wasn't worth spending a month in there just to be an extra-special victor. She would probably just run straight to the golden horn and wait for someone to eliminate her. After that, she could go home and be famous and just watch the rest of the games on the dirty old flatscreen in the orphanage. Really, she didn't understand why all of the other tributes didn't do the same. It would be much easier to just fall over and pretend to be dead so that the Capitol people would take you out of the arena than to try and become the extra-special victor. All they got was a bigger house, and it would be very lonely for Sierra to live in one by herself.

Besides the few minutes in the arena, this was going to be the best week of her life. Sierra couldn't wait.

Damion Wells certainly could. He would be perfectly content with spending his entire life in the main town of District 6, working in the shipping yards alongside his father. He had had a perfectly fine life here, and then that stupid escort had to go and pick his name. _His name!_ "Damion Wells" was written on three pieces of paper among thousands, but he had had to go and get reaped anyway. He was going to die, just because of one tiny slip of paper. And that stupid little girl had had the nerve to ask why he wasn't _excited_? He hoped that she died first.

Wait… was he really already becoming a bloodthirsty maniac like the Careers? He wouldn't allow his parents' last memories of him to be of a monster. His mother was unstable enough as it was. She had nearly had one of her panic attacks at the reaping when his name had been called. He had run to the back to comfort her before she started screaming her head off. He sure hoped that his mother would be sane enough to raise her new baby after he, her darling Damion, died in the Arena. To make things worse, the universe had decided to organize his death before he would ever meet his little brother or sister. Maybe his parents would name it Damion, Jr. if it was a boy.

Now that Nutmeg Clearwater had dried her tears and said goodbye to her older brother Michael, it was time to talk strategy. But her mentor wasn't helping. She had hoped to get Jack Davis, but the woman had chosen to mentor Nutmeg's district partner, Desmond Chordus. But that was okay. If she could only make the top three, Dalton would bring her home for sure. It was just getting there that was the problem.

If the arena was a forest, she would be set. But they had used that before, and it would bore the Capitol audience. So, while she sat in her compartment on the train, taking slow and blissful sips from a cup of heaven known as _hot chocolate_, she was busy asking her mentor what sort of terrain that she was likely to encounter. But, as she had thought earlier, he wasn't helping.

Dalton Awamutu was notorious for zoning out for hours at a time, ever since his girlfriend- was it Rainbow something?- had died. News, especially gossip, traveled fast between the lumberjacks back in District 7, and so everyone knew about how she had tragically died of a lung infection. He had taken to going into daydreams of the days when he had been happy. That was exactly what he was doing now. So, sighing, Nutmeg leaned back in her chair and waited for her mentor to snap back to reality.

But, just after Nutmeg had resigned herself to another waiting marathon, District 7's other mentor "Jack" Davis entered the compartment, with the other tribute, Desmond, at her heels. The tall woman immediately noticed the glazed look in Dalton's eyes and marched over to slap some sense into him- literally. Though Jack's methods were a bit… blunt, they seemed to do the trick. She had certainly gained Dalton's attention.

"Hey Dalton, you gonna help this girl out or what?" she asked, smirking as she plopped down next to him on the couch, leaving Desmond to sit next to Nutmeg, looking very uncomfortable. But though Dalton had just been snapped from a daydream, he wasn't fazed. He was clearly used to working with Jack.

So, looking straight into Nutmeg's eyes, he replied, "Only if she wants to be helped." Nutmeg allowed herself a small smile. Of course she wanted to be helped! She didn't exactly want to die… But, just as she started to say this, Dalton cut her off.

"You realize what this means, girl. No chickening out. You give it your all." Nutmeg nodded, but Dalton just snorted. "You have no idea, girl. What the arena can do to you. Even if you survive, you won't be you anymore. Are you okay with that? Because if you aren't, don't waste my time." Nutmeg's confident expression quickly morphed into wide-eyed fear at these words. With the help of her older brother Michael, she had managed to convince herself that she could win these Games, no problem. That she would be coming back to him. But Dalton's words had brought her back to reality. It was ironic, really, that she was being torn from idealism by the very man who lived in dreamland.

Desmond Chordus had never deluded himself in the first place. Rather than comforting him, his parents had spent their visiting time going over different survival tips for his time in the Arena. They had already lost one son, his little brother Jeremiah, and they weren't about to lose another. He had shared their ideas with his mentor Jack, and she had helped him to start devising a strategy for the actual Games while Nutmeg had been busy just watching Dalton stare off into space. He was lucky that their district had two victors to mentor. The tributes from 10 were stuck with just their escort for support in the Arena. Having two was especially good because it meant that Desmond wouldn't have to work with the girl from his district. She looked weak, and he didn't really want allies anyway. After losing his little brother Jeremiah, Desmond was wary of becoming too close to anyone for fear of losing them.

But that didn't mean that he wasn't a fighter. He was willing to do anything to return home to his family and friends. Would he kill? Yes. Would he regret it? No. But would he cause unnecessary pain? No. He wasn't a monster- But he was going to live.

The Arena would be an intense example of survival of the fittest. And Desmond fully intended to be the fittest in whatever goddamn Arena the GameMakers threw him into.

_A/N: So sorry that this is late! I think I got an A on that Latin test, though… I hope. Anyways, please tell me what you think! I'll get the next chapter up tonight or tomorrow :)._

_~ Lily_

_P.S.- Just to let you know, I have moved the final list of characters to my profile page. Please feel free to check it if you get confused with all of the different tributes (I know I do…) Thanks! _


	9. After the Reapings: Districts 8 & 9

**Hope- The 18****th**** Hunger Games**

District 8: After the Goodbyes

Spencer Fields, daughter of Mayor Fields of District 8, was confident that she would be the victor of the 18th Hunger Games. She had trained for the Games. She was smart. She was fast. She could climb. And she could throw knives like it was nobody's business. Sure, she was only 12, but that wouldn't stop her!

Her family, however, hadn't been so confident about her chances in the upcoming Games. Her mother had been sobbing when she had rushed in, just moments after Spencer herself had entered her visitation room in the Justice Building. Her older brother had contented himself with standing in the corner with silent tears rolling down his cheeks at the prospect of his little sister's "death." Even her father, the very father who had always been so proud of his little girl, thought that she wouldn't come out of the arena. Well, she would be proving them wrong. She was ready for whatever the Capitol could throw at her!

When she had tried to explain this to her family, however, she had been met with only shocked expressions. Spencer had never exactly told her family about how she had been secretly training in their basement for years. She had thought that informing her parents of this… detail would be comforting to them. Rather than looking reassured, however, her mother had whipped around to stare at her daughter as though she were an alien. Spencer could still hear her mother's last words to her echoing through her head.

_"You've been __**what? **__Spencer, do you have any idea what these Games __**are?**__"_

"_Yes, mother. They're a way for the Capitol to control the districts. But they're also a way for me to make a name for myself. Not to mention, they're the coolest programs on T.V.- much more interesting than those stupid talk shows that Dad always complains about."_

"_Spencer. Oh, Spencer… what have I done? …. I'm sorry. I should have been a better mother."_

Spencer's mother had then taken once last glance at her daughter before walking silently out of the room. She didn't return.

Needless to say, the mood in the room had become, if at all possible, even gloomier. When Spencer had looked to her father, hoping that he would dispute her mother's words. He didn't. Rather, he had simply stood there, staring at his daughter with tears running down his cheeks. It was the first time that Spencer had ever seen her father cry. It wouldn't be the last. Because she would be coming home. She had to. She couldn't die knowing that her mother thought that she was a monster.

Andy Perez knew that he wouldn't be coming home. Everyone in Panem knew it. But that didn't stop him from wishing desperately that he could. As he sat on his bed, staring out of the tiny train window into the night, he racked his brain for any way that he could possibly win. After hours of brainstorming, his most plausible idea was if his elevator into the arena malfunctioned and he could just stay underground while all of the other tributes killed each other. Somehow, he didn't think that that scenario was likely. But if he was sent into the Bloodbath, he wouldn't make it out. He was the size of a seven-year-old. Even Spencer, the second-smallest tribute, could squash him like a bug. Maybe he would just walk straight toward the Cornucopia and wait for a Career to take him out. It would be quicker that way.

After all, he couldn't bear to have his family watch him suffer. He couldn't put his little sister through that. Isobel was only five. If she could just forget about him, then she would stand a chance at living a normal, care-free life. Yes, it would be better that way. If he was as inconspicuous as possible, maybe the Capitol videomakers wouldn't even bother to put him on the tape. Then, she wouldn't have to bear the weight of his death on her shoulders.

District 9

Leila Vaniel knew that she would be punished for confronting a Peacekeeper, but she had never expected that death would be the price for protecting that little 6-year-old. Hadn't taking a dagger slash across her face been punishment enough? Apparently, the Capitol thought that it hadn't been.

Stealing wasn't tolerated in District 9. So, when a little girl was caught trying to pickpocket a Peacekeeper, he had whipped out a knife and advanced on the girl. When Leila had seen that the Peacekeeper was about to kill the little girl, she had thrown herself in front of the girl, trying to protect her. The girl had fled without a word, and Leila had been left to face the irate Peacekeeper. Instead of attacking her, however, the Peacekeeper had just asked her name before letting her go. Now that it was too late, Leila understood.

It had been agony to explain this to her family. She had told them that the jagged gash across her face was the result of an accident with the threshing equipment, not wanting them to worry about how she would be punished for her actions. But she regreted that now. The look on her brother's face when he realized how the reaping had been rigged against her hurt her more deeply than the wound ever had. They had never kept any secrets from each other before. It was he who she would miss the most when she was in the arena.

Letting go of her former life would be the most painful thing about the tribute. She could stand pain, and she didn't suppose that the interviews would be too bad. But knowing that she could have been happy, that she could have lived her whole life by her brother's side, that she could have gotten married, had kids, grown old, and died peacefully… yes, that was what she begrudged the Capitol the most. It had stolen her life, just like it had stolen hundreds of others. It wasn't fair.

Bradley Truell didn't have anything to miss. He was just another face in the mob of District 9 workers who set out to work in the fields every morning and returned to the town every night. He had been leaving absolutely nothing behind when he had boarded the train that would take him to the Capitol.

His parents had both died from the same disease when he was eight, leaving his older sister Madeleine to raise him. She had been sixteen at the time, and she had been very bitter about being tied down by a little brother. She had run off to get married at eighteen, abandoning Brad to the community home. He hadn't heard from her since.

And so he had spent six years of his life in the community home, trying to ignore the other kids' constant teasing about how even his own sister wouldn't live with him. It had hurt, almost as much as it had hurt him when Madeleine had left. But that had made him stronger. No words could ever hurt him. Even the two that the escort had read just hours before.

No one had come to say goodbye to him- not even Madeleine. But he didn't care. He had spent the quiet time coming up with a strategy for the arena. If he won, then everyone in Panem would know his name. He would be more than just a faceless field worker. And he actually stood a chance at doing just that. He would be a contender in these Games. He was strong enough to fight, and he would have no regrets about crushing the other children who were supposed to be his competition. Abandonment and solitude had turned him into a soulless machine. Just add a sword and he would be a soulless killing machine.


	10. After the Reapings: Districts 10 &11

**Hope- The 18****th**** Hunger Games**

District 10

Gray Wilson hadn't even considered the possibility that she would be reaped. Sure, she was 16 and had taken out more tesserae for herself and her brother than she would care to count, but the sinking feeling she had felt in her gut when Helena Sawyer had risen from her seat hadn't been for herself. Gray had devoted most of her life to keeping her little brother alive. If she died in the arena, then 12-year-old Evan would surely starve to death, just like their mother had.

Back when both of Gray's parents had been alive, they hadn't needed to worry about food. Her father had worked as a cattle hand at a nearby ranch and her mother had stayed at home, minding their chickens and her little brother Evan. Gray herself had been able to go to school: a privilege that not every district child could enjoy. Her family hadn't been rich, but they had gotten by and they always had each other for support.

But then one day her father hadn't come home from work. He had been gored by one of the bulls he had been working with. He hadn't survived. With no will to live and no means to make money, Gray's mother followed him to the grave just a few months later, leaving her now 11-year-old daughter to raise her little brother.

With nowhere else to turn, Gray went back to the ranch where her father had worked, looking desperately for a job that would allow her to put food on the table for herself and her little brother. The kind owner agreed to pay her a small wage in return for taking care of his chickens and goats. That, combined with the tesserae she took immediately on her twelfth birthday, had been enough to keep both her and her brother alive. Until now. Because even she couldn't control the Hunger Games.

As she sat on her bed, staring blankly at the wall of her train compartment, she could feel only one emotion. And it wasn't fear. It was anger: anger at Helena Sawyer for pulling her name, anger at the Capitol for putting Evan's life in danger, anger at the rebels for failing so long ago. She knew that, no matter what happened in the arena, she would make an impression. She would make the Capitol pay for its crimes. She wasn't going down without a fight.

Tasi Merkava didn't know what to think about his chances in the arena. He was immensely strong and was probably the largest tribute in the 18th Games, but there was the small matter of his limp. A well-aimed kick from a draft horse had torn some of the critical tendons in his knee, meaning that he was about as fast as a tortoise. And when he was forced to fight, he might not have the heart to. His father had abandoned him when he was very young, but he had still grown up in a loving "family." Satoshi Kingsley, a kind swineherd had found little Tasi in a field near his farm, and so he had adopted the little boy, having no relatives of his own. They had soon gotten a dog called Hope- who, like Tasi, was a foundling- and the three of them had formed a bond just as close as one created by blood.

Satoshi and Hope had been the only two who had come to visit him in the Justice Building, Hope setting the record for the first dog allowed in a visitation room. There, they had spent their last few moments together talking- just talking, while Hope sat contentedly at Tasi's feet, wagging her tail gently.

Tasi hoped that this memory would be enough to keep him sane in the arena. He had seen how, every year, tributes became monstrous, bloodthirsty shells of their former selves. There was no way that he could let that happen to him. He planned on fighting for self-defense, just without causing unnecessary pain. After all, hadn't he had to endure enough already in his life? Being abandoned by his father, permanently crippled, and teased for his disability had been torture enough. Winning the Hunger Games would provide the opportunity for him to live the sort of life he had always imagined: a life without pain. And so he intended to whatever it took to grasp his dream.

District 11

As Chloe Chase sat, curled up in a squashy armchair on the Capitol train, her last moments with her family and friends plagued her thoughts. The faces of her sisters Grace and Izzy swam before her, and she blinked away tears at the thought of never seeing them again. They had all been very careful not to mention that possibility when her family had come to see her in the Justice Building. As soon as the Mayor had dismissed the citizens, the Chases had all piled into Cherry's visitation room, 12-year-old Izzy sobbing and little Mal talking excitedly about how he and his friends had planned a picnic in the orchard, blissfully ignorant of the situation.

Not wanting to say goodbye and with their time quickly running out, Cherry's father had spoken first.

_"Oh, Cherry… What have you done to deserve this?"_

"_Oh, I dunno, Dad," _she had said, a ghost of a smile crossing her face._ "I must've been pretty good this year to be able to go to the Capitol. Everyone knows that the lamb stew there is delicious."_

Now, as she sat immersed in her fears, it amazed her how calm she had been. In the few seconds after she had been reaped, she had been able to shut down all of the terror that had threatened to overwhelm her. But, as she remembered what her little sister Izzy's next words had been, she felt cold teardrops start to run down her cheeks.

_"But Cherry! You can't go! You can't leave me!" _

_"Leave? Cherry's leaving? Leaving where?" _Malcolm had asked then, finally realizing that no one had been listening to him babble on about his plans for the afternoon.

_"I'm going to the Capitol for a little while, Mal," _she had said, trying to keep the pain out of her voice.

_"But __**why?**__" _he had persisted, and the question broke her heart. She just couldn't tell him that she was going to her death, but she also couldn't lie to him. Not knowing that false words could be among the last things she ever said to him.

_"Well, Mal. I'm going to have to go and be on TV for a little while. Maybe you'll be able to watch me when you're older." _So he could remember her.

_"But you'll come back, right?" _

_"Yes, Mal. I will." _And she had never before spoken words with such conviction. She had promised her little brother that she would be coming back. And she would do anything to keep her word.

Dante' Scott sure as hell wasn't ready for the Hunger Games, to say the least. He had absolutely no idea how his district counterpart, the little Cherry girl, could be so brave. She was half his size, for heaven's sake! He had spent all 15 years of his life never worrying about the Games and just enjoying the day off from work that Reaping Day provided. _Now_ he understood where the Career districts were coming from. Why couldn't anyone have volunteered for _him?_

He had plenty of friends, many of whom he had grown up with. And yet none of them had been willing to volunteer for him, regardless of the pact that they had made when they were twelve. They had sealed it with grape juice and everything! Some friends they were. Sure, they had come to visit, but they hadn't exactly given him any life-saving advice.

His family hadn't been much help, either. Edmond, his 18-year-old brother, could easily have volunteered to take his place. But had he? No. He, Dante' Scott, was being left to the mercy of the Capitol by everybody who supposedly _cared_ about him. They knew that he didn't stand a chance in the Games! After all, hadn't Edmond ditched work with him enough to know that he knew absolutely zilch about surviving in the wild (why would he bother to pay attention?) and that he was too clumsy to even fight with a stick sword? His family probably just didn't love him like they said they did. After all, with him dead, there would be one less mouth to feed. What a lovely thought to _die_ on.

_**A/N: One more of these chapters and I promise that we will be in the Capitol! Trust me, I'm just as anxious to get to the arena as you are (that is, if anyone is actually reading this...) If you happen to be, feel free to click that lovely blue button down there to let me know you're out there. Even just a smiley face would make my day :). Thanks so much for reading!**_

_**~ Lily**_


	11. After the Reapings: Districts 12 & 1

**Hope- The 18****th**** Hunger Games**

District 12

_Sea Jackson, Age 13_

Though the bed in her train compartment was by far the most luxurious one she had ever seen, with its cushy feather mattress, soft purple comforter and plush violet pillows, Sea Jackson couldn't sleep. Thoughts of what would happen to her in the arena in just over a week kept her awake and tense. She had tried counting sheep, but soon she realized that she had just been listing all of the different ways that she could meet her death during the 18th Hunger Games: drowning, starvation, beheading, muttations, dehydration, attacks from other tributes… At this thought, the images of each of this year's Career tributes flashed across her mind: Sterling, brutal crimson-haired boy from 1, his beautiful but deadly counterpart Sparkle, the small and vicious girl from 2, Natalia, Sef, the blonde and enormous boy from the same district, and finally Savannah and Jayce, the two from District 4 who could kill her just as easily as any of the other Careers could. Her mother had always told her that her extraordinary memory was a gift, but now, as the images of her opponents and of past Games plagued her thoughts, she cursed it.

If only she could have inherited her mother's courage! Marina Montrose, now Jackson, had been a rebel during the Dark Days. She had been born in District 4, and had quickly joined the resistance movement. With the rest of her squad, she had retreated to District 13 when District 4 had been recaptured by the Capitol. Marina had barely escaped with her life when the Capitol hovercrafts came to decimate District 13. She had fled into the wilderness, ending up in District 12, where she met Sea's father and settled down.

Even now, 18 years after the failure of the rebellion, Sea's mother Marina was alert to any signs of another attempt of overthrowing the Capitol. She had made sure to keep her combat skills sharp, practicing in their basement and giving her daughter Sea pointers about how to fight. Of course, she had only told Sea about the theory of using a gun, but these pieces of information could be invaluable nonetheless. After all, a bow was probably close enough to a gun, right? She just had to make sure to make the most of the three days of training in the Capitol.

This was exactly the advice that her parents had given her in the Visitation Room. They had wasted no time with mushy goodbyes, instead going straight into what she should do in the Arena. Sea had to admit that she hadn't really been listening to what they had been saying; she had been too overwhelmed by terror to comprehend a word that they were staying. All she had wanted was for her parents to hug her and tell her that it would be OK, that she would make it back to them. Now, she cursed herself for her weakness. Had she only kept her head, she could have prevented that squeal of terror that had escaped at the reaping, and she could have gained some valuable advice from her veteran mother. She had to be sure not to make the same mistake in the Arena.

_Elijah Enstrom, Age 17_

He was going into the Hunger Games. He was going into the Hunger Games. He was going into the Hunger Games. He was going into the Hunger Games. No matter how many times Elijah repeated these words to himself, he still couldn't process them. He, Elijah Enstrom, had volunteered as a tribute in the 18th Annual Hunger Games. How could he have been so _stupid_? Surely serving out his life in the coal mines of District 12 would be better than being brutally murdered in the Capitol.

Of course, he hadn't been thinking along those lines when he had volunteered for that kid just hours earlier. He couldn't even remember the kid's name. All he had been thinking at the time was how his 18th birthday was _tomorrow._ And there was only one thing that that meant in District 12. The start of work in the coal mines.

The mines were the one thing that Elijah feared. To him, they meant death. When he was little, they had taken the life of his father. Just months earlier, his best friend Will had perished in their depths. There was no way in _hell_ that he was going into them. To him, they _were_ hell.

And so, being the genius he was, he had volunteered for the Hunger Games. He had actually been thinking about doing so for months. He was very fast and pretty strong, so he had figured that he might stand a decent chance in the Games. (Of course, he had been kidding himself. When he had seen this year's Careers, he had almost fainted, just like the little Sea girl.) And besides, even if he lost (the most likely outcome, as he saw now), his family wouldn't need him. He had 8 siblings to keep food on the table, even as his parents aged.

But, even as he tried to recall his earlier reasons for volunteering, the arguments seemed even feebler than they had then. With his luck, the Gamemakers would chuck them in some giant pit so he could die in a 'mine', just like his father and Will. At least he wouldn't be leaving much behind when he died. No one in 12 ever did. Except for that Jamee Lawrence, who had fought for her dying mother. But, of course, she was the only one who had ever come back.

District 1

_Sparkle Shines, 17_

Sparkle Shines wasn't the only tribute who was still awake in the early hours of the morning. Of course, the cause of her insomnia was far different than the one for the majority of the other children. You see, she had a dilemma. For the last hour, she had been trying to decide whether to wear a ruby red dress with gold embroidery or an emerald green dress studded with sapphires for her arrival in the Capitol. Her escort, Vivian, couldn't have stressed the importance of her first impression enough. Of course, Sparkle already knew that, having heard it from her sister countless times, and she told Vivian so. They had almost gotten into a very nasty fight over that, but all had been forgiven when they had discovered that they both loved the combination of turquoise and pink. It was really too bad that there wasn't a turquoise and pink dress in wardrobe. Then she wouldn't have to make such a difficult decision!

She certainly hoped that the silver and gold number she had worn to the reaping had looked good enough on her. Her best friend Diamond had picked it out. She had a pretty good eye for fashion, but still… What if the people in the Capitol thought she was ugly? Eternal shame was begotten to any lady from District 1 who _wasn't_ gorgeous. After all, the winner of the annual contest was always given the first chance at the female tribute spot. Sparkle herself had won two years in a row, but her mother had said that 16 was far too young to be making her debut in the Capitol.

But now that she was 17, she was ready for the Hunger Games. She would have sponsors trampling each other to give her money. After all, that's just how her mentor Kaleida had won her games. Just a smile and wink at the cameras had gotten her a hot meal. Once she had betrayed the other Careers, she had simply had to hide out until the other tributes killed themselves off. If Sparkle followed in Kaleida's footsteps, she would be home and rolling in cash in no time!

…if she could just figure out whether red or green went better with her complexion!

_Sterling Morales, Age 18_

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Sterling Morales, Victor of the 18th Hunger Games!"

Sterling smirked at his reflection in the mirror. Yes, that sounded nice. He had trained all his life to become a Victor. And a Victor he would be. He just had to make sure that all of Panem knew it.

After all, that was exactly what the walk from the train into the Training Center was meant to be. It was an up-close preview at each of the tributes so that the citizens of the Capitol would know which ones to watch when the time came for the Opening Ceremonies. Of course, all eyes would be on him.

There was just no way he _couldn't_ win. His older brother Pyrite, Victor of the 11th Games, had been coaching him ever since he was old enough to understand what the Hunger Games were. Training had been a constant competition between him and his older sister Kaelah. She had volunteered for the Games last year at 18. She come in 4th- a disgrace to his family. He, Sterling, would just have to redeem his family.

And would that really be too difficult? What competition did he really have? His district partner, Sparkle, looked totally useless. He would keep her for a few days to get her sponsors and then he would slit her throat. The tiny girl from two didn't look like much of a problem, and he could probably just shoot the male before he got close to him. Sef from four could be taken out from behind and he could squash his partner Savannah without a weapon in his hand. Any of the other districts couldn't possibly present a problem. Winning would be a piece of cake.

So now, really, the only challenge he would face was happening right now- winning over the Capitol. Sterling was more than ready. He added a bit more gel to his already-spiky maroon hair, brushed nonexistent dust off his black suit, put on a winning smile, and stepped out into the throng of Capitol citizens who were waiting just outside the train. The Games had begun.

_**A/N: We're in the Capitol! I'm super excited to finally have these introduction chapters finished. Please tell me what you think of this one . When I got my new laptop, I lost a bunch of information on several tributes. Actually, for this chapter, I only had something to go off for Sparkle. The rest I just made up using their reapings and the top of my head. If the creators of these tributes are still reading this, then feel free to PM me with information on them. Otherwise, they'll be subject to my imagination . Look for the next chapter soon!**_

_**~ Lily**_


	12. Arrival at the Capitol

**Hope- The 18****th**** Hunger Games**

* * *

This was the day that Elnora Hansen had been waiting for. It was known as Arrival Day in the Capitol. The day when they could all catch their first glimpses of that year's tributes in person. Elnora wouldn't miss it for the world. After all, she _had_ to be ready for the Opening Ceremonies that night. She had learned during the 2nd Games that it just wasn't possible to get a good look at 24 children during the chariot rides, even if she got a prime seat. She had foolishly chosen to start preparing for the night's ceremonies instead of watching the arrivals that year, and she had been met with disastrous results. Her pick, the boy from 7, had died second. He had come in **twenty-third** place! It had taken _years_ for Phyllis to stop tormenting Elnora about it.

But this year, Elnora was ready to finally beat cranky old Phyllis at her own game. She had sent one of her Avoxes to secure a prime seat for her at dawn so she could watch the arrivals of the tribute trains, and she had made sure that another of her servants learned how to use a video camera so she could review footage of each of the tributes. There was no way that she was going to let a lapse of her memory fail her- not like what happened in the disaster of the 10th Games, when she had accidentally mixed up the girls from Districts 4 and 8. Her husband hadn't let that mistake rest until his dying day.

* * *

Peeling the cucumbers off of her eyes, Elnora glanced at her clock and jumped in surprise. The train from 1 was due to arrive in just under an hour! She rang the golden bell on the table beside her, and she soon heard one of her Avoxes hurrying to her service. She sent the girl to go and fetch her makeup while she herself slipped into her dress, a metallic gray halter top, and donned a sapphire blue cardigan to go with it. The Avox she had sent quickly returned with her kit, and she carefully applied several layers of anti-aging makeup. There was just no way that she could look older than Phyllis at such a public event. Phyllis would _never_ let her hear the end of it.

After she had deemed herself presentable, Elnora hurried down the carpeted stairs of her home and stopped in the entranceway, waiting for the Avoxes who were to accompany to her. Darryl, the one who had learned how to use the video camera, soon arrived with his equipment, followed closely by her chauffeur. After dashing back into the kitchen to grab her notebook, Elnora departed for the train station. She was _so_ ready to give Phyllis a taste of her own medicine.

She arrived at the train station with fifteen minutes to spare. Quickly locating the Avox she had sent that morning, she made her way slowly through the crowd to the ornate lawn chair that he had placed right beside the red carpet that led from the station to the Training Center. She gratefully accepted the cold bottle of lemonade that her Avox pulled out of a cooler but, as she looked up to smile her thanks at him, she saw none other than Phyllis sitting just two chairs down from her. The other woman smirked at her while patting her own notebook. She had clearly been doing every bit as much research on the tributes as Elnora had. She looked confident that she would beat Elnora once again this year, but Elnora had different plans. She was convinced that, this year, her true talent for picking victors would be revealed.

* * *

Elnora and Phyllis's stare down was interrupted by the blaring of a horn. The train from 1 had arrived a full seven minutes early! It clearly needed a new conductor. But Elnora had no time to waste on such thoughts; the doors of the train were already opening!

Sparkle, the 17-year-old female from 1, stepped out of the compartment first. She was grinning widely and blowing countless kisses into the assembly. She walked slowly, though confidently, making the most of the time she had to impress the citizens of the Capitol. It was really a miracle that she hadn't tripped in the enormous sapphire blue pumps she was wearing; she had clearly had a lot of practice in heels. Elnora remembered being able to wear heels that tall once. But it had been a _long_ time ago. At least the girl was pretty enough in her emerald green dress, studded with sapphires to match her shoes. But red probably would have been a better color on her.

As that thought crossed Elnora's mind, a flash of crimson caught her eye. Sterling, the 18-year-old male from 1, had just stepped off the train. Sparkle might have been pretty enough, but this man was _handsome_. He wore an impeccable black suit and a very confident smirk as he waved at the crowd. His crimson hair shone in the light, making it look almost as if his hair was on fire. Still waving and winking at several ladies in the mob, he made his way slowly toward the Justice Building. Elnora's eyes lingered on Sterling's retreating back as the excitement in the crowd slowly died down. She wouldn't waste her time on Sparkle, but _Sterling_… Now, _he_ could be a victor!

A firm prod in the back brought Elnora back to reality. She glanced up at her Avox angrily before she remembered that she had ordered him to do so if she started to lose her senses. She had made the mistake of choosing the tribute she would sponsor without considering those from the later districts too many times. If only she had noticed the fire that had been burning in Jamee Lawrence's eyes! But she had overlooked the potential of the girl from 12, and she had paid the price in the form of Phyllis's taunts.

At that thought, she realized that she should probably be noting down her opinions on Sparkle and Sterling- just the thing that Phyllis was doing. If only she didn't get distracted so easily, she might stand a chance against her childhood rival. But a horn sounding in the distance seemed intent on doing just that. It was the train from 2! It was exactly seven minutes early, just like the train from 1. Maybe Elnora would have to get her watch checked.

After quickly scribbling down a reminder to watch Sterling during the Opening Ceremonies and Interviews, Elnora made a new heading in her notebook for District 2. No matter what, she would be watching its tributes. After all, it was the district with by far the most victors. _Why_ hadn't she remembered that last year, during Larrisa Mazely's Games? Rumor was that her best friend Natalia would be a tribute this year. Perhaps she was that little blonde girl who had vaulted onto the stage.

This assumption was confirmed as none other than Natalia Elvin, the female tribute from District 2, stepped off the train. She, like Sparkle, was clad in emerald green, though the color suited her much better than it had the taller girl. It looked good with her eyes. Elnora had always wanted green eyes. But no, she was stuck with brown- another fact that the blue-eyed Phyllis never let her forget. Unlike Sparkle, however, Natalia did not wave or blow kisses. She walked quickly along the carpet, not glancing at a single person and wearing a mysterious smirk. This girl was clearly not one to mess with. If she really was best friends with Larrisa Mazely, then she would definitely be a contender.

She was soon covered by a shadow as Sef Frelwood, her district partner, stepped out of the train. All thoughts of Sterling vanished from Elnora's mind as she gazed up at the enormous 18-year-old. He was even more handsome than he had looked on T.V. And that was saying something. Renewing her wish that she was 70 years younger, she wrote a note to watch both of the tributes from 2. Not that she would need it. She would be hard pressed to tear her eyes away from Sef all during the Opening Ceremonies.

On an impulse, she glanced over to see if Phyllis was watching Sef, too. But the other woman was staring at her hands, chipping impatiently at her nail polish. It seemed as if she hadn't paid the slightest bit of attention to District 2. Was she crazy? Had she finally lost her touch? Sef could probably crush more than half of the arena with his bare hands! It looked like she was just waiting- waiting for the tribute she had already picked. How could she possibly choose who she would sponsor just based on the reapings? Phyllis had clearly grown overconfident- a mistake she would soon regret. Because Elnora and her notebook were ready. Especially if District 3 would hurry up and get here!

A silver train soon obliged. It wasn't nearly as shiny as those from Districts 1 and 2, but that was to be expected. After all, it had just come from the filthy electronics district, a place chock full of technological weirdos. Its only victor, now a morphling addict, had won the very first Games on pure luck. Of course, that had been before the tributes from 1, 2, and 4 had started training. These days, its tributes were almost always killed on the first day.

But the 18-year-old boy who had just stepped onto the red carpet could easily prove her wrong. Claude Astrovsky, a heavily built, well-muscled boy, looked like he belonged in one of the Career districts rather than in 3. He looked strong enough, but would he know how to survive in the wild or use weapons when he had grown up in a very urban district? Elnora made a note to pay attention to his training score. That would be a clear pointer to how well he could actually cope in the arena.

Piper Alexander, the skinny blonde girl who followed closely behind Claude, definitely bore the District 3 look. Pale and thin, she looked like she hadn't seen the sun in years. Elnora saw her eyes widen in fear as she stepped out into the crowd, but the girl soon composed herself and attempted to wave half-heartedly at the crowd. Her courage was admirable, but she wouldn't stand a chance in the Games. The name "Piper Alexander" was quickly crossed out in Elnora's notebook.

The tributes from 4 stood up to Elnora's judgment much better than Piper had. Jayce, the male, looked just as strong as Sterling and Sef, though he was not quite as massive. Just like the other Careers, he emitted confidence, waving and wearing a cocky grin. He walked right next to his district partner, Savannah, a very pretty 16-year-old girl. She too looked capable, but her eyes lacked the ferocity of Natalia's. Rather, she looked genuinely friendly, smiling even more widely than Jayce. They actually looked quite cute together. Perhaps…? But no. Sponsoring a couple of lovebirds wouldn't get her anywhere. However, they each looked athletic enough, so both of their names went on the "watch" list nonetheless.

Like Claude from 3, Rosalie Aduriza from 5 looked like she hailed from a Career district. She had an air of confidence and command about her as she smiled and waved at the crowd. Though she was a little on the small side, she looked agile and smart enough to learn how to fight if she didn't already know how. It was quite common for the children of more well-off families in the districts to receive a bit of training from their parents or from past victors. Actually, now that Elnora thought about it, she could swear that she had heard the name "Aduriza" before. Of course! Rosalie must be the daughter of the ruling family from 5! That alone gained her a spot on Elnora's "watch" list.

Her partner Vincent didn't look quite so capable. He was clearly trying to look confident like Rosalie, but his grin looked more like a grimace. It was really too bad that he didn't have the size nor the strength to pull off the brutal or hostile angle. Sighing, Elnora crossed off "Vincent DeLoria" from her list. Even though his fighting spirit would give him an advantage over some of the other tributes, that same willpower would just get him killed during the initial Bloodbath.

Strangely enough, the pasty blonde girl from 6 was the best so far at greeting the crowds as far as genuine excitement went. Grinning widely and waving, she bounced out of the carriage. Pausing only to straighten the skirt of her dress, Sierra Jackson started down the red carpet, carefully walking from toe to heel while trying not to trip in her silver heels. She either had a very bad foot problem or a totally off-base idea of how a queen was supposed to walk. Either way, she wouldn't survive two seconds in the arena. Needless to say, her name was crossed off the list. Three times. In ruby red ink.

Her partner, a brown-haired boy of about fourteen, didn't look much more promising. Damion Wells didn't even try to smile as he made his way slowly along the red carpet, dragging his feet all the way. He had clearly already given up on any hope of surviving. Elnora shook her head as she dragged her pen across his name. It was such a shame that he was giving up the opportunity of a lifetime. At least it would make her job of picking the victor a little bit easier.

She had just about given up on the outlying districts when Desmond Chordus, the male from District 7, stepped out onto the carpet. Though Elnora knew from Caesar Flickerman's talk show that the boy was only 15, he could easily pass for 16 or even 17. He was powerfully built, especially in the upper body, and he looked as if he was used to hard work. He waved at the crowd as he walked towards the Training Center, but he did not smile. It was almost as if he was condemning each and every person in the crowd for taking part in the Hunger Games. His build, along with his spirit, gained him a firm spot on Elnora's "watch" list.

His partner Nutmeg Clearwater, however, quickly had her name crossed out. She was quite pretty, with long brown locks and enormous brown eyes, but she looked far too weak to be able to handle the horrors of the arena, much less fight. She could hide, of course, but hiding could only get one so far in the Games. Sooner or later, she would be found, and Elnora would lose her money. Nutmeg just wasn't worth the risk.

Elnora had no second thoughts about crossing off both tributes from 8. Spencer and Andy were pathetic. There was just no other way to describe the two scrawny 12-year-olds from the textile district. Spencer smirked and waved at the crowd as though she was a Career. Andy, however, had to be shoved out from the carriage by his escort. Finally forced out into the open, he sprinted straight into the Training Center and disappeared. Talk about unfriendly! He would be lucky to get so much as a penny from sponsors.

Leila Vaniel, the pale redhead from 9, would stand a better chance at gaining support. After all, Elnora was intrigued by her. Of course, she was more interested in discovering why in Panem the reaping had been rigged against her than in discovering whether or not she was Victor material. Leila looked confident enough, smiling and waving at the crowd, but there was something in her eyes that wasn't quite right. Something that said that, no matter what, she knew that she wouldn't be coming home. Elnora started to cross off Leila's name, but then stopped herself and circled it instead. She sensed that there was something more to the girl than she was letting on.

Occupied with her thoughts on Leila, Elnora almost missed the arrival of Bradley Truell, the muscular 18-year-old from 9 whom she had been watching during the reapings. Up close, however, he didn't look quite so promising. Though, of course, Elnora would never admit that she had been wrong. It was very possible that the fiery determination in his eyes would be a benefit in the Games rather than the burden. But now that Elnora looked at Bradley, all she could see was the boy from 2 that Jamee Lawrence had killed in her Games. Yes, the tribute she had sponsored that year. At least he had been in the top 10. But Elnora needed a Victor. She was too proud to cross Bradley's name off the list entirely, but she knew that, if she decided to go for one of the muscular boys, Bradley wouldn't be the one.

Speaking of muscular boys, the enormous boy from 10 had just stepped off of his train. He was even larger than he had looked on the screen, but there was a kindness visible in his eyes that Elnora hadn't been able to see during his reaping. Though he was certainly strong enough to do so, Elnora seriously doubted his ability to kill. He didn't look like he would have the heart to do so. Though she certainly felt sorry for the boy, Elnora slowly crossed the name "Tasi Merkava" off her list. Picking a tribute who actually had a soul wouldn't help her play her part in the Games. And it certainly wouldn't help her beat Phyllis.

The 16-year-old girl from 10 followed closely behind Tasi. But, unlike him, she didn't smile or wave; she was stoic as she walked along the carpet toward the Training Center. However, as she approached Elnora, she locked eyes with her. Elnora saw Gray Wilson's brown eyes flash in anger as she broke contact and stared around at the rest of the assembly. She was clearly angry at the Capitol, angry for condemning her to death. She _would_ be a fighter. She had the right sort of mindset to do well in the arena. Elnora might have just found the tribute she would sponsor! But yet another poke from her Avox brought her back to her senses. There were still two districts to go, after all, not to mention the Opening Ceremonies, training scores, and interview. It would be just stupid to run off and choose her tribute now. Elnora smiled. The years of her husband repeating this lesson, among others, had finally managed to get through to her. A few years after his death.

When Chloe Chase stepped out into the sunlight, Elnora almost immediately crossed her name off the list. But, at a sharp poke from her Avox, she glanced back up at the tiny redhead. She was waving and smiling at the crowd, much more confident than a girl of her size should logically be. Chloe seemed to think that she would stand a chance. Either that, or she knew that she _had _to stand a chance. That there was something she had to return home to. Against her better judgement, Elnora added Chloe's name to her "watch" list. If she regretted the decision later, she could just blame it on her Avox, after all.

She could, however, cross Dante' Scott off her list immediately. Though the kid was on the large side and looked quite athletic, he was sniveling like a baby. If he couldn't even muster the courage to _walk across a carpet_, how on earth did he expect to survive in the Arena? Shaking her head and tutting, Elnora added a second line through his name.

At last, the train from 12 arrived. The last train. Elnora had been glancing anxiously at her watch for the past ten minutes. She had to have enough time to get ready for the Opening Ceremonies! After all, she would be sitting only two rows above the President himself. But as she was about to resign herself to just watching the footage Darryl was filming, the coal-black steam engine rolled into the station.

Elnora didn't recognize the tall boy with brown curly hair who stepped off the train first. She must not have been paying attention during his reaping. But no, her notebook said that some 13-year-old named Gerard Davis was the male tribute from 12. This boy looked to be 17 at least- probably 18. Wait a minute- he was the nutter who volunteered! Elijah Enstrom! Elijah looked like he was trying to look confident, but he was failing miserably. The resigned look in his eyes told Elnora that he regretted his decision the day before. He was probably strong enough to make it past the Bloodbath, but not much further. After she completely obliterated "Gerard Davis" from her list, Elnora carefully wrote "Elijah Enstrom" in her notebook and crossed the name off.

At last, the final tribute, the girl from 12, stepped off the train. She was a young girl, at about 13, with long black hair and shockingly sea green eyes. Yes, Sea was her name, wasn't it? Elnora remembered her looking terrified at her reaping, but none of the girl's fear seemed to remain. She was smiling widely and waving almost as energetically as that annoying Sierra girl from 6. The girl looked confident and capable now, but still… would the weakness she had shown at the reaping come through in the Arena? Elnora circled Sea's name. She would have to see how the girl did in training.

After a long day at the train station, she was done! She was finally done! Now, she could go back to the comfort of her home to take a nice long bubble bath before the Opening Ceremonies. She had forgotten about how stressful Hunger Games season always was. She was really getting too old for this. Maybe if she beat Phyllis just this once, she could retire from sponsoring.

* * *

Elnora's "Watch" List

Sterling Morales (D1 M)

Sef Frelwood (D2 M)

Natalia Elvin (D2 F)

Claude Astrovsky (D3 M)

Jayce Holaway (D4 M)

Savannah Morgan (D4 F)

Rosalie Aduriza (D5 F)

Desmond Chordus (D7 M)

Bradley Truell (D9 M)

Leila Vaniel (D9 F)

Gray Wilson (D10 F)

Chloe Chase (D11 F)

Sea Jackson (D12 F)

* * *

_**A/N: Wow, I had no idea how long this chapter would turn out to be! But I hope that you all had as much fun reading it as I had writing it. You've gotta love Elnora… But please, feel free to tell me what you think- whether it's good OR bad. Constructive criticism will only make this story better. A special thanks to TheFirstMaraudette and Angel-With-Blue-Eyes for your wonderful reviews and support! Look for the next chapter soon :). **_

_**~ Lily**_


	13. Opening Ceremonies

**Hope- The 18****th**** Hunger Games**

* * *

"There you go, dear," Hayffie Marsuul said, smiling down at Piper Alexander as she zipped up the back of the girl's costume. "You look lovely!" Well, at least she looked as lovely as Hayffie could make her. She simply hadn't had enough time to rid Piper of the typical, sickly District 3 look. The girl's costume needed altering, too, but, again, there wasn't much she could do in the time she had been given. After all, she didn't exactly have time to make an entirely new costume when she had two tributes to style. But yellow was most definitely _not_ Piper's color. In a last ditch effort to make the girl more presentable, Hayffie had added a sash of gears and shortened the electric yellow dress to knee length. Yes, it had helped a bit, but, well… at least the girl's hair looked good. Her prep team had managed to fix all of its split ends, and the voluminous curls they had added made Piper's face look much less thin. It was progress.

"Just head out that door, sugar, and you'll meet your mentor Enbry. He'll take you to the chariots. I would stay, but I really must dash to help Claude. Good luck, sweetie!" With that, Hayffie gave Piper a bone-crushing hug and ran out the door.

The hallway was complete and utter chaos. Tributes, mentors, stylists, and random photographers were everywhere, most hurrying toward the chariots. As she fought against the stream of people, Hayffie earned herself a glare from the District 1 female when she accidentally trod on the girl's bejeweled train. The girl was covered from head to toe in diamonds and looked quite pretty, but Hayffie thought that the addition of a few rubies at random points would really enhance the look. However, she really did have to get to Claude's room, so she shouted an apology back at the girl, hoping that it would reach her over the din, and continued to shove her way through the crowd.

At last, Hayffie reached Claude's room and squeezed herself in, panting for breath. Pausing to straighten her skirt, she looked up to find Claude slumped in an armchair, staring blankly out the window. His prep team had done a good job on his hair, too, leaving it in messy brown spikes. All that really remained for Hayffie to do was his costume and makeup.

"Claude, honey, are you okay?" Hayffie asked, concern evident in her voice. She had never had children herself, so she had taken to seeing each year's tribute's as her own. Claude nodded, and Hayffie took this as permission to start his makeup. She didn't put on much- just enough so that the audience would be able to see his face. He quickly slipped into the tight metallic silver costume and then wordlessly fastened a black belt adorned with gears around himself. He nodded to show that he was ready, and, after Hayffie paused to straighten one of the gears, she led him out the door and back into the mayhem of the hallway.

It was much easier to travel with the flow of people rather than against it, so it took Hayffie and Claude almost no time at all to reach the chariots. The room holding the vehicles was every bit as chaotic as the hallway had been, with mentors and stylists dashing this way and that, giving last minute advice to their tributes. Hayffie led Claude over to the third chariot over, a shiny silver cart pulled by two gray horses, where Piper and her mentor Enbry were waiting.

After Claude had climbed into the chariot to stand next to Piper, Hayffie took it upon herself to make sure that they both looked presentable. A few straightenings and dusting-offs later, she deemed them both, "Just perfect!" She bid good luck to Claude before walking around to the other side of the carriage to talk to Piper, who was shaking in fear. "It'll be alright, dear. You're beautiful, on the inside and the outside. Just smile, and you'll do great." Piper attempted a feeble smile, and Hayffie gave her one last hug before turning to head over to the elevators.

* * *

It was completely normal for some of the mentors to watch the Opening Ceremonies from the audience. That way, they could see what the citizens of the Capitol were seeing. Usually, one mentor would go up to the balcony while the other would stay with the tributes. Hayffie knew that Enbry was usually too far gone, high on morphling, to even remember his own name, much less to pay attention to the impressions each tribute was giving. So, she took this upon herself every year. Besides, it really wasn't too bad of a job. She got to see her friends' creations first hand instead of just on the rack.

She exited the elevator and headed over to sit with her friend Kim and a black-haired woman who Hayffie recognized as Anastasia Sanders, Victor of the 9th Games (or, at least she thought it was the 9th…) "Hey Kim, Ana," Hayffie said as she plopped down next to the two women. "How are things?"

"Pretty good, thanks Hay," Kim replied with a smile. "I'm just glad that I got those costumes done in time. I swear, I haven't slept in a week!" Hayffie nodded in agreement. Stylists were never given enough credit for all they did.

"I know what you mean," she said. "I nearly had a heart attack when I saw how thin my girl is this year. Snow knows how many sizes smaller I had to make that dress… Piper's a darling, though. Such a shame that she has to go into the Arena." At these words, Anastasia visibly tensed. Kim patted her friend on the back consolingly. She knew how much it hurt Ana to send two children to their deaths every year. In a desperate attempt to not become too close to the tributes this year, Anastasia had left Chloe and Dante' with Dante's stylist for the majority of the time they had spent in the Capitol. He was the one who was seeing them off before the Opening Ceremonies.

A sharp increase in the volume of the cheering in the stands heralded the beginning of the Ceremonies as Bernard Flickerman mounted the stage. "Good evening, Panem, and welcome to the Opening Ceremonies of the 18th Annual Hunger Games!" He said, his jovial voice booming throughout the stadium. A massive roar of applause answered him. "Are you ready to meet our tributes?" He asked, an overexaggerated look of incredulity on his face. The crowd responded with an even louder wave of cheering, whistling, screaming, and stomping. "Well, People of Panem, I give you the tributes of the 18th Hunger Games! From District 1, give a hand to Sparkle Shines and Sterling Morales!"

Hayffie turned to see two palomino horses pulling a magnificent golden carriage into the stadium. She recognized Sparkle's diamond dress and saw that the train had been shortened so that it didn't hang off the back of the carriage. It was much better, but it could still use rubies. Sterling was clad in pure white pants and a bejeweled belt, and he wore diamond armbands that made his muscles evident even to those sitting in the highest reaches of the stadium. Carsten, his stylist, had really outdone himself this time. That boy would have people falling over themselves to sponsor him. The girl, Sparkle, wouldn't have much trouble gaining support, either.

Bernard's booming voice penetrated Hayffie's thoughts once again as he asked the audience to give a big welcome to Natalia Elvin and Sef Frelwood from District 2. Hayffie had to admit that their stylist was good. District 2 was the masonry district, so he had dressed Natalia and Sef as statues. Natalia, who was frozen in an upright, smiling pose, was dressed as a Greek goddess, while Sef was wearing primitive armor and posing with his sword held menacingly above his head. He would have no problem pulling off the fierce angle during the interviews. Natalia wasn't as easy to figure out. Here, in the Ceremonies, she appeared beautiful and harmless, while, during her Reaping, she had looked downright dangerous.

Piper, however, looked anything _but_ dangerous as District 3's chariot pulled into the stadium. She actually looked quite sweet in her yellow dress. Though it was still very bright, Hayffie was glad that she had managed to tone down the color enough to make it so that Piper _didn't_ look like she was on her death bed. Hayffie was overjoyed to be able to say that Claude looked _good. _Of course, he wasn't nearly as fit or as muscular as the Careers, but it was easily to tell that he was strong and athletic. He might stand a chance at getting some pretty good sponsors. The same couldn't be said for poor Piper.

Savannah and Jayce from District 4 were both dressed as mermaids and, unlike the Careers from 1 and 2, they actually looked quite comfortable next to each other. Both were smiling and waving enthusiastically, and it was easy to tell that they were crowd favorites. To be honest, if Hayffie was allowed to gamble, she would probably put her money on one of them. Though she wasn't sure which one it would be. Both were very athletic, not to mention good-looking. Hayffie loved Piper and Claude, to be sure, but she envied the stylists who were assigned to richer districts. They had much more to work with.

District 5 was the power district, so its costumes were often very similar to those from District 3. This year, however, its stylists had chosen to dress Rosalie and Vincent in jet black rather than the regular electric yellow. The rainbow lights that had been wrapped around their costumes stood out against the black, drawing eyes to both of them, though Rosalie was certainly getting the better share of the audience's attention. It wasn't only the lights that made the audience notice her. Her confidence was infectious. Hayffie knew that this ability to control the crowd would give Rosalie a huge advantage in the interviews.

The tributes from 6 were unremarkable. They were dressed as train engines, with bright yellow headlights fastened to their foreheads. The light made the pasty blonde girl looked absolutely hideous, though she was smiling wide enough to be the most beautiful woman in Panem. Had she ever _seen_ a mirror before? The boy, Damion, didn't look nearly as bad as Sierra, but he wasn't even trying to smile. Rather, he simply stood in the carriage, a glum frown plastered to his face as the audience's cheers turned to boos.

Their excitement was renewed, however, as District 7 came into view. Just like every year, the tributes from the lumber district were dressed as trees. The look suited the boy, Desmond. His strong arms could easily be branches, and his curly brown hair matched the rest of the costume. The girl, Nutmeg, looked like a sapling, beautiful but breakable. Her enormous brown eyes were even wider than normal in excitement, as she smiled and waved at the audience. Desmond, the boy, waved but did not smile. Perhaps he was going for the strong and silent angle.

District 8's tributes were laughable. Its stylists had clearly tried to go for the "adorable" angle on its two 12-year-olds and had failed miserably. The girl, Spencer, was wearing a short, poofy patchwork dress reminiscent of toddlers' beauty pageants in District 1. She might have been cute, had it not been for the scowl evident on her face. Andy, the tiny boy, was wearing patchwork overalls and a plain white t-shirt. He was trying to hide behind the front of the carriage, and he was nearly small enough to succeed. Hayffie's heart went out to the boy. She hoped that he died quickly.

Leila Vaniel from District 9 was dressed in a bright red dress that complemented her hair, which had been braided with a ribbon resembling grains of wheat. She was waving and smiling, but her grin was a bit too wide, and her movements a bit too stiff. She was a very good actress, but it was evident to Hayffie that the girl wasn't enjoying a minute of this. Her district partner, Bradley Truell, didn't appear to be, either. And that came as no surprise to Hayffie. He was dressed in hardly a thing save for a few well-placed grains and stalks of wheat. His face was stony, and he wasn't even trying to acknowledge the crowd.

District 10's carriage stood out, not because it had flashing lights or glittering gems, but because of its sheer size. It had had to be reinforced so that it could hold the enormous boy who had been reaped. As it was, his partner was barely managing to stay inside the vehicle as it moved into the stadium. When Gray realized that they had entered the stadium, she tried to smile and wave at the crowd, but then she clutched her stomach as if in pain and covered her mouth. The poor girl was motion sick! Her partner Tasi, meanwhile, hadn't noticed her predicament and was waving and smiling at the crowd, completely unaware that he was about to have the remnants of several meals emptied at his feet. Hayffie really hoped that Gray could hold herself together, for the girl's own sake.

Hayffie felt Kim stiffen up beside her, and she quickly realized the cause of this: the entry of 11's carriage into the stadium. Kim had certainly done well with her tributes this year! The tiny redheaded girl looked beautiful in a green grassy dress adorned with flowers. Cherry was smiling and waving at the crowd, blowing kisses and catching and throwing countless bouquets. Next to her, the boy was dressed as… a potato? When Hayffie turned to look questioningly at the stylist next to her, Kim just shrugged. "It's not my business what Tero does but, you have to admit, it must suck to be the boy." Hayffie nodded vehemently. Being dressed as a potato in front of all of Panem definitely wasn't on her list of favorite things to do.

With all eyes focused on the potato-boy, most of the audience didn't even notice 12's entrance. Of course, there wasn't much to see. The tributes were dressed as coal miners, hard hats and all, just like every year. They _really_ needed new stylists. But the girl made up for it somewhat with her positive energy. Sea seemed genuinely happy to be there, which only fueled the citizens' excitement. Elijah, however, looked miserable. He was tapping his foot nervously and scowling up towards the stage. Well, he probably wouldn't be getting many sponsors.

The twelve carriages pulled into a semicircle around the stage. They were quite a sight to look at: flashing lights, glittering gems, head lamps, and a potato, among other things. Most of the crowd's attention was diverted from the tributes to Bernard Flickerman as he took up his microphone again. "Welcome, tributes! Welcome to the Capitol! To start things off, I'd like to invite our very own President Ezekiel Snow to officially begin the 18th Hunger Games! Mr. President, if you please." Bernard Flickerman flashed a grin towards the President before sitting down.

The crowd's noise slowly died down as the President came forward to give his Opening Address.  
"Welcome, Panem, to the 18th Hunger Games," he said, in a cold, deadly voice. "I am sure that we are all very excited to be here." At this, Gray Wilson finally lost her battle, splattering the stage. Some of her lunch ended up on President Snow's shoes. His eyes flashed in anger, and Hayffie was sure that he was plotting her slow, painful death in the Arena. Three Avoxes rushed on to the stage to clear the mess. One attempted to escort Gray out of the stadium, but she refused to budge. She wore a satisfied smirk.

Clearing his throat, President Snow continued his speech, going on to give an abbreviated form of the Treaty of Treason speech. He took his seat once more after wishing luck to the tributes. He would seem like a likeable enough fellow, if it weren't for that cold, dangerous smile that was all too often present on his face. A smile that said that he knew how each and every child standing in front of him would die. Including the eventual Victor.

* * *

Once the chariots began to parade out of the stadium, Hayffie bade goodbye to Anastasia and Kim and hurried to the elevator. She had to beat the rush to get downstairs following the Ceremonies so that she could greet Piper and Claude and lead them to their rooms. Just like Enbry, its mentor, District 3's escort was totally useless. This left a rather large burden on Hayffie's shoulders, so she was naturally anxious to get to bed. After all, tomorrow would be a "big, big, big day." It would be one of the days that would determine which of the tributes would come out of the Arena and which wouldn't live to see the end of the week.

* * *

_**A/N: Okay, so it's not my best chapter, but it does have its good moments. Dante' is a random character I made up, and I just couldn't resist dressing him as a potato once the idea popped into my head. I hope you all liked this chapter, though. Please feel free to make my day and click that nice shiny button at the bottom of the page! :D Thanks so much to everyone who is still reading this. It means a lot :). The next chapter should be up soon. **_

_**~ Lily**_


	14. Morning of Training

**Hope- The 18****th**** Hunger Games**

* * *

Cecelia Dawning jumped as her alarm went off, blaring Panem's national anthem loudly enough for the people in District 12 to hear it. Well, at least she was awake. Glancing at her clock, she saw that she still had an hour before Savannah and Jayce had to be at Training. Good. She just didn't trust their escort, Mildred, the toucan-lady, to get their tributes there in time. The old lady was more concerned with perfecting her makeup than in making sure that two kids would have a fair chance of surviving the next few weeks. Capitol people disgusted Cecelia. She would like to see how _they_ would do in an Arena.

Rolling out of bed, Cecelia headed straight to the shower. She knew that, if she didn't get up, she would fall right back asleep. Besides, water always had a calming effect on her. It helped to take her mind off the Games. But now, however, she couldn't afford to be thinking about anything _but_ the upcoming Games. Savannah's and Jayce's lives would depend on her ability to stay focused during the next few weeks.

She envied the districts like 1 and 2 that had more than one Victor to mentor. Although 4 was a Career district, she was its first and _only_ Victor, though its tributes almost always made it to at least the final 8. Just last year, Cecelia had honestly thought that Gwenna, her female tribute, could defeat Larrisa Mazely. Well, obviously, that idea hadn't worked out so well.

This year, Savannah and Jayce looked ready for the Arena. They had both been training for years, and they were both smart as well. Cecelia only hoped that their feelings for each other wouldn't get in the way of victory in the arena. Though they had tried to hide it, she had seen the glances across the table, the inside jokes, the way they had stood as a team during the Opening Ceremonies. At least they would both have the luxury of a secure alliance with each other. The Careers were notorious for betraying each other after the first couple of days.

Speaking of the Career alliance, Cecelia still had to meet with Brett and Kaleida from 1 and Larrisa and Curtis from 2 to discuss the finer details. She would probably do that during the tributes' lunch break. Though she wanted to put off dealing with the scatter-brained Kaleida for as long as possible, she knew that it was best if she just got it over with. She certainly felt sorry for Brett- he had to put up with her 24/7 during the years he had to mentor alongside her.

Stepping out of the shower and drying herself off, Cecelia threw on a navy blue summer dress and flats before stepping out into the hallway. Her feet traced the familiar path to the lounge of District 4's apartment. She paused to ask an Avox for a cup of coffee before she sank into one of the squashy blue armchairs in the main room. Sure, she could have just gotten coffee from the machine back in her room, but she always thought that the hand-made stuff was better. Besides, she hated the idea of machine-created food zooming towards her from Snow-knows-where in the Capitol.

A few minutes later, she gratefully accepted the coffee from the servant and took a sip. She smiled. French vanilla creamer and two sugar cubes. Her Avox knew her too well. Finishing her coffee quickly, she stretched and stood. It was time to go and wake Savannah and Jayce. They needed time to eat breakfast before they headed off to training. They would need the energy. Though she had won her own Games four years ago, Cecelia still remembered how tiring these three days had been.

She stopped to wake Jayce first. Boys were always easier to get up in the morning. They didn't throw hissy fits if you dumped a bucket of ice water on their heads. Which was exactly what Cecelia intended to do. That way, he couldn't just roll over and go back to sleep. As she stopped before Jayce's door, preparing to knock, her Avox showed up, grinning, with two full buckets of ice cold water. Her Avox really _did _know her too well.

Steeling herself for the fury of a teenage who hasn't gotten enough sleep, Cecelia hammered on Jayce's door before barging in. She figured that she would at least give him the chance to get up before she subjected him to the ice water treatment. Jayce would have no such luck, however. He was sprawled out all over the king bed, mouth open wide, snoring loudly enough to wake the citizens in District 12 who weren't already awake from Cecelia's alarm. Shrugging, Cecelia emptied the contents of her bucket on his head. His stylist would give her hell about his hair later, but she really didn't care.

"WHAT THE HE-!" Jayce roared as the water hit his head, cutting off some very colorful swear words. He looked rather comical as he sat, purple-faced and drenched, looking up at his highly amused mentor.

"Get up. There's more where that came from if you're not in the dining room in 10 minutes." Jayce blanched. He clearly wasn't fond of the prospect of more ice-cold water. "Kay, I'm awake, I'm awake! No more soaking necessary!" He said, scooting away from Cecelia. She smirked and nodded before exiting the room, grabbing Savannah's bucket. Scaring the pants off of one of the most dangerous tributes in the 18th Hunger Games was a wonderful way to start the morning.

It was a short walk from Jayce's room to Savannah's and, in no time, Cecelia was hammering on the door of her old room. A polite, "Come in," answered her. It was clear that she wouldn't need the second bucket, for Savannah was already awake, sitting on the edge of her bed, brushing her hair. Pleasantly surprised, Cecelia set down her bucket and moved into the room. It might be fun to dump water on the massive boys, but she had gotten some pretty nasty bruises from Gwenna last year. That girl had been able to throw pillows and hairbrushes almost as well as knives.

"What was that for?" Savannah asked, gesturing nervously at the bucket. "Oh, nothing…" Cecelia lied. "Just extra in case I need it for Jayce. He wasn't nearly as easy to get up as you were."

Savannah grinned. "Sure sounds like Jayce. When we were talking on the train, I went to grab some popcorn for us. When I came back, he was totally passed out on the couch. It took me _ages_ to get him up, and then he just ate _all_ of the popcorn. It was like he hadn't eaten in years!"

Cecelia nodded. She remembered how much her younger brother had been able to devour before he had been reaped. Obviously, he hadn't made it out. The pain of losing him had stopped stinging ages ago, though. "Speaking of eating," Cecelia said, "Breakfast should be in about five minutes. I'm going to go back and check on Jayce, so just take a right and two lefts and you'll be right in the Dining Room. Don't know if you remember it from last night. I know that I got lost on my first morning here. Somehow I ended up on the roof…" At this, Savannah laughed, looking like anything but a killer, before Cecelia left. She really did need to check on Jayce.

Surprisingly, Jayce wasn't still in bed when Cecelia barged into his room, not bothering to knock. Cecelia was about to leave, impressed, when she noticed a foot sticking out from underneath the bed. With surprising strength, she dragged the boy out from his hiding place. "Up. Now. Or it's no breakfast. And it's a _long_ time until lunch." Cecelia said. She knew just how teenage minds worked. Hey, she had been a growing girl once, too.

From there, Cecelia headed to the kitchen and met Savannah there. Toucan-woman was obviously still asleep. Surprisingly, it only took Jayce five minutes to show up. They all ate quickly. It was traditional for all of the Careers to get to training early so that they could have a brief tactics discussion without the fear of being overheard by other tributes. Cecelia had seen some pretty stiff competition during the Opening Ceremonies last night, so this was essential.

After she had finished her plate of bacon and eggs, Cecelia stood up, with Savannah at her heels and a whining Jayce trailing behind. Apparently he hadn't had time to finish his third sausage biscuit. "Bring it with you!" Cecelia said, while leading her tributes through the winding hallways of the District 4 apartment to the elevator. Its golden doors slid open, revealing an empty compartment. Cecelia sighed with relief. She really didn't feel like dealing with any of the other districts this early in the morning. That was the tributes' problem. Two levels down, however, its doors slid open to reveal the District 2 tributes and one of their mentors, last year's victor Larrisa Mazely.

Larrisa and the tiny golden-haired girl, Natalia, were chatting animatedly, but they stopped abruptly when they saw that the elevator was occupied. The two girls and Sef squeezed into the elevator and the golden doors slammed shut. Sef murmured a greeting to Jayce and Savannah, but neither Natalia nor Larrisa spoke. Cecelia remembered Larrisa from the girl's Victory Tour six months ago. She hadn't been the most pleasant guest, so to speak. Cecelia didn't blame her for killing Gwenna- that was the way that the Games worked, after all- but had she _really_ felt it necessary to list all of the reasons she deserved the crown more than her host's mentee?

Sighing, Cecelia made to move over to give District 2 a bit more room, but was spared the trouble as the golden doors opened once again, this time on the ground floor. Smirking when Larrisa appeared lost- after all, she had only been here for her own year as a tribute- Cecelia led the way over to the door leading into the actual Training Room. "Here you are, Savannah, Jayce. Remember what I told you last night, and good luck."

After Larrisa had bade farewell to her tributes, she raised an eyebrow at Cecelia, clearly lost as to what mentors were supposed to do while the tributes were in training, but too proud to actually ask for help. "Come on, Larrisa. Mentors have an observation room that's just around the corner," Cecelia said after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. A ghost of a smile crossed the girl's lips as she nodded, following Cecelia.

The black-haired woman led the younger mentor up to a colorful display of flowers. Pulling a vase to the side, she revealed a touch screen, to which she pressed her palm. A door disguised to look like part of the wall slid open, and the two women hurried into the Observation complex. Brett and Kaleida from District 1 were already there, with Kaleida talking animatedly about what she planned to wear to the interviews and Brett looking miserable. His face brightened when he saw Cecelia, however. "Hey, C, how are ya?" He asked, talking over his dimwitted partner.

"Pretty good, you?" Cecelia replied, sitting down in one of the comfy rolling office chairs provided for mentors. Brett rolled his eyes in return.

"Could be better…" he said, with a meaningful glance at Kaleida. Cecelia smiled. Brett wasn't always the ruthless Career he appeared to be. Then again, Cecelia wasn't either. As for Larrisa, well…

Speaking of Larrisa, Cecelia could see that her best friend Natalia seemed to be taking charge of the Career meeting. Each of the Observation Rooms in the complex had one giant window looking into the center of the room as well as dozens of screens focused on each of the stations so mentors could always keep an eye on their tributes. When Cecelia pointed out that their tributes' meeting had started, all of the mentors hurried to gather around the window so that they could watch and make sure that things went smoothly.

Inside the training room, the Careers were gathered, sitting in a circle at the center of the room. Natalia from District 2 spoke first. "So, we all know why we're here. To form the Career alliance. To crush those weaklings from the outlying districts. I assume we're all in?" The rest of the Careers nodded solemnly, except for Jayce.

"Wait, we're forming an alliance? I thought this was an old ladies' sewing circle…" he muttered sarcastically, earning himself a death glare from Natalia. Cecelia smiled. It was good that Jayce wasn't letting District 2 take over the alliance.

Sparkle clearly hadn't understood that Jayce wasn't serious. "Of course we're forming an alliance! We always do! Don't you know that?" She said, her voice shrill and piercing as she leapt to her feet. Even Kaleida winced.

"No, I'd never heard about a Career alliance before now. Have any of you?" Savannah asked sarcastically, catching on to Jayce's game and exchanging a meaningful glance with him. They both burst out laughing, causing Sparkle to match Natalia's facial expression.

"No, seriously guys, we have to be serious!" Sparkle whined, putting her hands on her hips and looking to her district partner Sterling for support. He rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Sparkle, we know. Okay?" He said to her, speaking slowly as if to a small child. She nodded, appeased, as she sat back down. Brett nodded in approval.

"It's good that he learns how to deal with District 1 bimbos early. If not, well, dying in the Arena might be kinder than living out the rest of his life with them…" he said to Cecelia. He really didn't care if Kaleida heard him. But, of course, she was too busy applying an extra layer of lip gloss to notice that anything out of the ordinary had happened.

Back in the Training Room, the tributes returned to their discussion of tactics, this time with Sef leading. "I take it that we're following the standard Bloodbath strategy?" This time, all of the tributes nodded and said in unison, "Grab a weapon, kill the opposition, loot the Cornucopia." The same phrase that had been drilled into each of their minds since birth. The same strategy that had gotten all of their mentors through their own first days.

Jayce then took the lead. "After that, it really depends on what the Arena is. For a typical environment, we'll hunt that night and return to guard the Cornucopia at dawn. Everyone good with that?"

"Yes, District 4, we know. We aren't quite as dumb as fishmongers are," Natalia said coldly, clearly not pleased about not leading the discussion.

"I think that Natalia's actually right for once," Savannah piped up, surprising Cecelia. The girl hadn't seemed like the type to suck up to people. "We all know the standard Arena strategies. The only variables in the Games are the tributes and the Gamemakers. Seeing as we have no way of predicting what the Gamemakers will do, I think we should plan around the different tributes. How we should take down the stronger ones, who we should invite into our alliance, things like that."

The rest of the Careers nodded in agreement before Sterling spoke up. "So, let's go through who the threats are. I'd say that big ones from 3 and 10 and maybe the one from 7 are the only ones who could possibly stand a chance against us."

"Don't be dumb, Sterling. Power isn't always determined by size, you know. Did you see the little one from 10? I don't think that throwing up on Snow's shoes was exactly an accident," Savannah said. Now that Cecelia thought about it, the girl could be right about Gray from 10. She was sure that a girl who had grown up on a ranch would have a little more willpower than that. The only question was, _why_ would she be dumb enough to anger the President of Panem?

"I know exactly what I'm saying!" Sterling retorted. "I could squash 10 into a pulp with my bare hands. Size makes might. Simple as that."

"Excuse me?" Natalia said in a cold, deadly voice. Though the girl was indeed tiny, she looked dangerous. Personally, Cecelia was very glad that the glass in the window was both bullet-proof _and_ knife-proof. District 2 was notorious for its female tributes' skill at ranged weapons. She had seen the deadly accuracy with which Larrisa had thrown her knives at Gwenna last year. One in the heart, one in the gut, and one in between the eyes in a matter of seconds. She was dead before she even knew what had hit her.

"Okay, sorry, your highness," Sterling said, throwing his hands up in defeat. "So, who do _you _think we should watch out for?"

"Hmm, let's see… Claude from 3, the girl from 5, boy from 7, both from 10, and the boy from 12," Natalia replied, ticking them all off on her fingers.

"What about the boy from 9?" Savannah asked in a friendlier tone. "He's nearly as big as Jayce. No offence, but he could probably do some damage if he got into close range."

"He won't get near me. No one will." Natalia said, her eyes flashing with anger. "Besides, didn't you _see_ him during his reaping? Looked totally dead. He will be on the first day."

"I'll make sure to get him during the Bloodbath if that'll make you feel better, Savannah," Jayce said, grinning and elbowing her playfully in the side.

"I'd like to see you try," Savannah challenged, smirking. "But really, we do have to focus. The others will be here soon. We know who we're watching out for. Do we want any of them in our alliance?"

Natalia started to speak, but Sparkle cut her off with a cheerful greeting. "Hi, Rosalie!" She said, her voice as high-pitched as ever. District 5 had just entered the Training Room, with a beautiful 15-year-old girl leading and a taller boy of the same age trailing behind. Natalia leaned over to whisper something to Sef, who nodded. Whatever she had said had been too quiet for the microphones to pick up, but her words soon became clear.

"Hey, District 5, over here!" Natalia called. "No, not you, just the girl." The boy, Vince, hurried off to a corner, scowling, while the girl, Rosalie smiled and walked over. She plopped down right in between Savannah and Jayce, earning herself glares from both of them.

"So, I know we don't have much time before everyone else gets here," Rosalie said, keeping her voice low so that Vince couldn't here. "Do you want me in your alliance or not?" The girl sure had guts to talk to the Careers like that. She could be making some very powerful enemies. But Natalia seemed to approve.

"Yes. You in?" She asked, not even bothering to look for consent from the other Careers.

"You bet!" Rosalie said, grinning.

"Good," Natalia said, nodding. "But you'd better be useful. If you're dead weight, then you'll be just that. Dead. Get the picture?" Rosalie nodded in return, not fazed in the least. She seemed to be fitting right in with the Career pack. Cecelia wondered just how long that would last in the Arena.

Just as Natalia started to fill Rosalie in on what they had discussed earlier, the tributes from 3 and 9 entered. Glancing at her watch, Cecelia saw that training was officially due to start in about 10 minutes. The Careers wouldn't be able to get anything more done. But they had the basics covered, so that would just have to do. Getting up from her chair and stretching, Cecelia walked out of Observation Room 1 and headed down the hallway to the vending machine. She needed to use this opportunity to stock up on snacks before the real fun of Training began.

* * *

_**A/N: I know, I know, you all thought that Training would be this chapter. To be honest, I thought that it would be, too. But then I decided that I needed to fill you in on what the Careers are doing and it ended up waaay longer than I was expecting. Hope you liked it anyways! Thanks so much to all who have reviewed. The next chapter will be up soon . **_

_**~ Lily**_


	15. Training

**Hope: The 18****th**** Hunger Games**

* * *

"Oh, would she just get _on_ with it?" Helena Sawyer, District 10's mentor and escort, mumbled. Sitting right beside her, Jamee Lawrence, District 12's mentor, nodded. The trainer, an older woman called Atalanta, was overly fond of spilling her life story to tributes every year during their orientation before training. She had given practically the same speech for the past 3 years. Jamee had never paid any attention to it. After all, she had been just a little more concerned with her mother, who was kind of _dying_, than in listening to her trainer talk about her cats during her own year as a tribute.

The mentors were finally saved from Atalanta's narrative about Mr. Mittens the Third when the tiny girl from District 2 echoed Helena's words, interrupting the trainer. "Can you just shut up so we can start?" She said, her voice icy.

Atalanta shook her head rapidly, as if trying to focus, and peered down at the girl through enormous gold spectacles. "What's that you said, little missy?"

Natalia clearly wasn't pleased about being called a 'little missy.' Leaping to her feet and getting right in the trainer's face, she breathed, "Just shut up, lady, and let us go. Or life will be very unpleasant for you."

Taking a step back, Atalanta smiled. "Well, isn't that nice," She beamed. Taking a deep breath, she pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket, smoothed it out, and began to read. "I can tell that we are all very excited to begin training. As you can see, we have set up a variety of stations for you to practice with. You are forbidden from making physical contact with any other tribute, so we have volunteers who will practice any activity, such as sparring, with you. Remember to visit all of the stations. It takes much more than skill with weapons to become a victor. Make sure that you make the best of these three days. Good luck to all of you." At that, she tottered over to an ornate chair in the middle of the room and sank into it. "You may begin!" She called.

At that, one would expect the tributes to all hurry to various stations. But most of them simply stood in the center of the room, staring awkwardly at the Careers, who had sprinted to assorted weapons stations. They slowly began to separate, all trying to stay as far away from the Careers as possible. Craning her neck to keep an eye on Sea, her female tribute, Jamee saw that the girl was heading straight for the archery station. This meant that the girl was taking her advice. The night before, Sea had told Jamee about how her mom had taught her how to fight with a gun. Jamee had encouraged her to learn how to use a similar ranged weapon.

Fortunately for Sea, the archery station was empty. After all, the bow wasn't a very popular weapon in a country where Peacekeepers carried guns around everywhere. Sea shakily picked up the smallest bow she could see and attempted to nock an arrow, dropping it several times before one of the supervisors noticed her predicament. The girl nodded solemnly as the man explained how to load, draw, and fire the weapon. He then handed her a piece of leather to guard against the string before asking her to try to hit one of the targets about 20 feet away from her. Under the table, Jamee crossed her fingers. If this girl could learn how to fire a bow well, then she would stand a fair chance in the Arena. Sea drew back the string, sighted, and released. And hit the target's foot. Jamee sighed. Maybe, with 3 days of practice, she would make her a decent archer. Maybe.

* * *

But she couldn't spend all of her time watching Sea; she was a mentor to two children, after all. She glanced around the room, finally spotting Elijah at the poisonous plants station. The boy actually had the sense not to bolt to the weapons! It was a miracle. But he didn't seem to be doing much studying. Rather, he was talking in low tones to the boy from 9. Bradley, or something like that. After a few moments, bits of their conversation could be heard, crackling over the loudspeaker in the Observation Room, magnified by one of the microphones placed in the ceiling of the Training Room.

"…was training with a pickaxe. Probably close enough to a normal axe," Elijah was saying. The other boy nodded appraisingly. "How 'bout you, Brad?"

"Hello? District 9? Grain? The barley doesn't stand a chance against my scythe. Tributes won't either." Brad replied, shrugging. It seemed to be his favorite expression.

"And what if the Cornucopia isn't simply overflowing with scythes?" Elijah asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Swords are probably close enough to scythes. Either way, you whack stuff. I should be able to manage," Brad replied, shrugging again.

Elijah smirked. "Nice. So, allies?"

"You bet," said Brad, shaking Elijah's hand. Jamee sighed. She had told Elijah to avoid alliances at all costs. They only ever lead to betrayal. But at least there was a good chance that one or both of them would be killed in the Bloodbath.

* * *

Glancing up at the camera focused on the archery station, Jamee saw that Sea was still working with the bow and wasn't in any trouble, so the mentor decided to use the lull to observe some of the other tributes. She was forbidden from giving Sea and Elijah any information about any the other tributes, but any knowledge she could get might come in handy during the Games.

Letting her eyes slide to the camera right next to the one for the archery station, Jamee saw the girls from 9, 10, and 11 all at the rock climbing station. They were racing to the top, all laughing loudly. Chloe from 11 reached the top first, ringing the cow bell and starting to descend, more slowly, closely followed by Gray from 10 and Leila from 9. When they all reached the ground, they collapsed on the mats, breathing heavily and still giggling.

"Do you have bells like that in District 10?" Leila asked Gray curiously.

"Oh, yeah, but we don't use them very much. A cow is pretty easy to hear just on its own. But I grew up dealing with just the chickens and the goats," Gray replied.

"Sounds a whole lot more interesting than working in a grain field," Leila said, sighing. "At least you can talk to animals without looking crazy. It can get lonely in the fields when you've only got stalks of wheat for company. What about you, Cherry? Where do you work?"

"Orchards. It's actually not too bad. You've got shade when you're working, and there's always plenty of company. And we don't have to go to school during harvest time." Chloe, or Cherry answered.

"Let me guess- you're named after a cherry tree?" Leila asked. Cherry shook her head.

"No, I'm obviously named after the President of Old Canada," Cherry said sarcastically, rolling her eyes, but then breaking into a grin. "But actually, yes. I'm named after my favorite tree. My favorite fruit, too. Except it's really hard to sneak any home what with the Peacekeepers and everything,"

"We'll see if we can get Mr. Tax to send us any when we're in the Arena," Gray said, also smiling. "Think he'll do it if we ask nicely? A pretty please with a _cherry on top?_"

"Maybe," Cherry said, laughing. She soon turned serious, however. "So I guess this means we're allies?" Leila and Gray both nodded solemnly. "Great! So, on to the knife station, maybe?" Cherry said, leading the way over to said station .

* * *

Jamee's attention was diverted from the screens by raucous laughter one room over. Sighing and getting to her feet, she went to see what all of the commotion was about. All of the mentors from the Career districts were pointing to their main screen where the little blonde girl from 6 could be seen, sitting in the center of the Training Room, refusing to move.

"… but I don't want to go!" The girl whined as the trainer attempted to get her to her feet. "What's the point? Why can't I just sit here?"

"You do really have to get up and start training for the Arena, Sierra," Atalanta said patiently. "You have to be ready. After all, launch is in a little less than a week!"

" But I don't _want_ to train," Sierra pouted. "It's not like I'm planning on trying or anything. I'm only going to spend like five minutes in that dumb Arena!"

Atalanta's eyes widened. Sure, this girl was annoying and looked kind of down, but she didn't come across as suicidal! "Sierra, dear, you know what happens in the Arena, right?" She asked tentatively.

"Yes!" Sierra exclaimed, very offended. "All of the tributes fight it out for a chance to be the extra-special Victor! You lose when you look like you're dead and the hovercraft things take you out of the Arena." Atalanta tried to cut her off, looking horrified, but Sierra continued. "I really think it's stupid for all of the kids to try and be the extra-special victor. It's not worth putting up with all the bugs just for a bigger house. So I'm just going to run to the middle and wait for someone to get me. No training necessary."

"Sierra, I don't know how to tell you this, but the Hunger Games are a fight to the _death_. Only one person, the extra-special victor, makes it out of there alive. When someone eliminates you, they _kill _you."

Sierra blanched. "You're lying! That's what Sister Agnes told me, and she was lying too!" She screeched. "I'm going to come home! I'm going to go home and be famous! You're lying!"

Putting a hand on the girl's shoulder, Atalanta sighed. "I'm not lying, Sierra. You see those swords? They're real. That's why we're training now. So you can survive."

Sierra turned, if possible, even paler as tears began to stream down her cheeks. "So… so that's why Josie and Mary Ellen didn't come back… They're… they're dead. I'M GONNA DIE!" Sierra wailed, drawing the eyes of all of the other tributes. Jamee could hear Natalia snigger.

"Oh, poor dear, let's go and get some hot chocolate. It'll make you feel better. Come on, this way," Atalanta said, leading Sierra out of the room. She paused to yell, "And don't any of you kill each other while we're gone!" to the other tributes before shutting the door behind her.

* * *

Well, that was certainly interesting. Jamee could still hear the Career mentors' laughter behind her as she retreated to hers and Helena's own Observation Room. She would have stayed to chat with Cecelia, but she felt that she owed it to Sea and Elijah to get as much information on the other tributes as possible before the Games started. She had promised Elijah's hysterical mother that she would do whatever humanly possible to bring her son home.

At the swords station, several of the weaker tributes were struggling to even lift the weapons. One of the smarter ones, Piper from District 3, suggested that they go to knot-tying instead, but her idea was greeted unenthusiastically. Shrugging, she made her way over to the previously empty station and took up a cord of rope. Jamee nodded in approval. Why couldn't Elijah be sensible like this girl?

Back at the swords station, the three remaining tributes seemed to have given up trying to wield the weapons. They seemed to be forging some sort of agreement, as they all shook hands and headed over to the edible plants station as a group. So Vince from 5, Damion from 6, and Nutmeg from 7 were in an alliance? It was interesting, but it probably wasn't too important. None of them really had a shot at winning, anyways.

* * *

A muffled pounding over the loudspeakers caught Jamee's attention much like the Career mentors' laughter had. Glancing up at the cameras, searching from the source of the noise, her eyes lit up on the boy from 7, who was excelling at the axe station, throwing one after the other into the line of targets on one wall. He hit the bull's eye every time. With a shudder, Jamee remembered the boy from 7 who had fought in her own eyes. He had nearly brained her with his axe more than one time. He had finally been taken down, not by another tribute, but by a group of rabid chipmunk muttations.

Jamee wondered if this boy would be willing to make any alliances. He was certainly a force to be reckoned, and his eyes held a determination to win that tributes like Damion from 6 and Andy from 8 lacked.

Speaking of Andy, he seemed to be trying to talk to his district partner, Spencer, who was ignoring him while dueling a supervisor with a small dagger. She was actually doing quite well in both pursuits. The microphones caught a bit of their conversation.

"… and NOT going to team up with a weakling like you, and that's that!" Spencer hissed, stabbing what would have been the man's heart, had he not been wearing armor.

"But Spencer, please! I need an ally!"

"No. And that's final." Spencer growled, stalking away to the throwing spears station. Jamee smirked. Rejected.

* * *

A buzzer sounded in both the Observation Complex and the Training Room, signaling the lunch break. Jamee sighed with relief. She definitely needed a break from this. And some chocolate. Perhaps she would grab some after talking to Brad's mentor. Darn Elijah for making an alliance. It made mentoring so much harder. And it delayed her chocolate pig-out sessions.

* * *

_**A/N: Once again, not my best chapter . I don't know what's been up with me lately… my last good one was probably the Opening Ceremonies. Oh, well. I really wanted to get this up tonight. I hope that I covered pretty much everyone (except for the Careers- they were last chapter.) Just so you know, alliances can and WILL shift during the course of the Games. Thanks so much for the reviews and support so far! We're almost into the Arena!**_

_**~ Lily**_


	16. Training Evaluations

**Hope- The 18****th**** Hunger Games**

* * *

Ambrosius Tax sank gratefully into the throne-like chair situated in the middle of a stage on one end of the Training Room. He had spent a very long morning trapped in meetings, ranging from news interviews to conferences with President Snow himself. But now, he could just relax, enjoy the endless feast provided for Gamemakers, and watch tributes show off all afternoon. His job today was really quite simple. He just had to slap down a number on each of the tributes, and then he would even have the evening off! It really was a relief to finally be done with the finishing touches on this year's Arena.

He signaled to an Avox to bring him a cup of coffee- he would need caffeine to stay awake for the later districts- and, as he did so, the other Gamemakers began to file into the room, filling the rows of seats behind his own chair. They were all very stiff and formal as they greeted him, and the first-year Gamemakers seemed to be incredibly nervous. This was ridiculous. Surely they knew that their presence here was merely a formality. Of course, he was _technically _supposed to take their votes about the tributes' scores into consideration, but he had never really seen the point of even looking at the results. Why would he? He had perfectly good judgment.

Just as soon as the last of the junior Gamemakers took their seats, the Avox Ambrosius had sent earlier returned with a full pitcher of coffee and an ornate ceramic cup. Pouring the coffee, the servant bowed and exited. Sipping the drink appreciatively, Ambrosius thought that this day really couldn't get much better. The evaluations were due to start at any moment, and the Career tributes were always entertaining to watch.

After a few minutes of sitting in comfortable silence, one of the more senior Gamemakers entered the room. "Mr. Tax, all preparations have been made and the tributes are ready. Please begin the evaluations at your leisure," he said carefully. And it was well and good that he should be careful. It wasn't a wise move to annoy the Head Gamemaker. But, as it was, he had nothing to fear, for Ambrosius was quite looking forward to the evaluations. Holding his hand out for the list of tributes, he scanned it quickly before calling out, "Sterling Morales, enter." His voice was magnified by several microphones embedded in the ceiling, so the tributes waiting just outside the door could hear him over a loudspeaker.

A few moments after he did so, a massive boy with crimson hair swaggered into the room, wearing a very cocky grin. "Sterling Morales, District 1," he said, before heading straight to the sword station. Ambrosius nodded for the most skilled trainer to meet the boy there. Both took up their weapons and moved into the center of the room to duel. Well, this would certainly be interesting.

They started to circle each other, both testing the other's reflexes with feints for several minutes. At last, Sterling lunged forward, sword extended in a perfect thrust towards the trainer's gut. The trainer made to deflect the blade but, at the last minute, Sterling shifted his aim so that it would be he who would knock the trainer's sword out of the way. He then used his momentum to drive his right elbow into the trainer's gut, winding the other man and knocking him several paces back. Taking the opportunity, Sterling grabbed the trainer's right hand with his left while the man was off balance, rendering the trainer's sword useless. Then, with his own free right hand, Sterling began a deadly arcing swipe towards the other man's left side, stopping the blade just centimeters from the trainer's flesh. The other man, drenched with sweat, dropped his blade and threw up his hands in defeat. All of the Gamemakers, including Ambrosius, applauded the remarkable display of swordsmanship. Ambrosius wondered what else the boy could have up his sleeve.

From the swords station, Sterling headed to the throwing spears station. He picked up several of the weapons and headed over to the target range. Throwing one after the other, all of them hit the target, and one or two of them landed in the bull's eye at the target's heart. It wasn't remarkable, but the boy could still do some damage with a spear. Sterling then proceeded to the weights station, lifting an incredible amount. In a test of brute strength, he would certainly be one of the most powerful in the Arena. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Sterling held out his hands to show that he was finished. Ambrosius nodded his approval- the boy was good- and said, "Thank you, District 1. You may leave."

After the last flash of crimson disappeared from view, Ambrosius allowed himself a small smile. The boy, Sterling, would be a force to be reckoned with in the Arena. So, he would be a source of endless entertainment for the people in the Capitol. And entertainment was what Ambrosius lived for. Scribbling a number for Sterling down on a slip of paper, he called for Sparkle Shines to enter.

The girl, a blonde beauty, flounced into the room, grinning. After introducing herself, she headed, not for a weapons station, but for the rock climbing wall. She proceeded to race up it as though she were a spider, not pausing until she had rung the cow's bell and leapt down, cat-like, to the mats at the base of the wall. It appeared that those incredibly long legs were useful for something other than looking pretty.

From there, Sparkle again avoided the weapons station and headed instead to the track that ran around the entire edge of the room. Starting the enormous clock that was mounted on the wall, she began to run. Four laps around the room made a mile, and she completed eight in only 12 minutes. Ambrosius nodded, impressed. Not only was the girl pretty, she was also fit. But he did wonder why she, as a Career, hadn't touched the weapons. He dismissed her, still wondering if he was missing something.

* * *

The next Career to enter was Sef Frelwood from District 2. He was even bigger than Sterling from 1, but only just. Also like Sterling, he began at the swords station, defeating the trainer easily, though not quite as handily as Sterling had. From that station, however he headed to the edible plants station, sweeping the test. That was most definitely interesting. A Career who actually had survival skills? Clearly, the trainers in the District 2 Career Center were becoming more intelligent, especially after they lost their male tribute to starvation last year.

After the edible plants, however, Sef bolted for the throwing spears. He fingered the stack he had grabbed appreciatively, as though greeting old friends, as he carried them to one end of the room, opposite the target range. He clearly intended to throw them across the entire room. Ambrosius was intrigued. This boy was obviously very cocky or very dangerous. It became apparent that Sef was the latter after he threw his first spear, embedding it smack in the first target's heart. The second landed in between a target's eyes, a third in its gut, and the fourth and fifth in opposite wrists, perfectly positioned to cripple an opponent.

Ambrosius dismissed the boy, impressed. Sef clearly knew what he was doing. A duel between him and the boy from 1 would certainly be interesting. Perhaps he could arrange such a confrontation. Either that, or he could have the boy take on a pack of his special tiger mutts. Yes, that would certainly excite his audience and please his boss, President Snow. It was quite amusing how there was a direct correlation between the tributes' suffering and his job security.

* * *

Realizing suddenly that at least five minutes had passed since Sef had left, Ambrosius called for Natalia Elvin from District 2 to enter. A tiny golden-haired girl, who was every bit as beautiful as the District 1 girl, walked calmly in, her eyes shining with excitement. After introducing herself, she headed straight for the knives station, picking up three full sets of the weapons. From there, she took up Sef's former position in front of the target range and picked up one of the scabbards, slinging it over her shoulder. Grasping two blades, one for each hand, she suddenly moved, whipping them both within a fraction of a second of each other. With two sharp smacks, they landed within a millimeter of each other, both imbedded in the target's heart.

From there, she headed over to the knot-tying station, still carrying two sets of knives, and grabbed a long cord of rope before walking over to the rock-climbing wall. Slinging both scabbards and the rope coil over the shoulder, she quickly scaled the wall before climbing onto the rafters of the room. She began to wrap the rope around one of the rafters at the center of the room, her hands blurs as she tied a complicated knot. Wrapping one loop of rope around her right ankle, she pulled the knot tight, grabbed her two scabbards, and leapt off the rafter she had been crouching on.

The knot held perfectly, supporting her so that she was hanging upside-down by the ankle. Taking care not to drop any of the blades, she grabbed two, sticking them in between her teeth as she replaced the scabbards over her shoulder. From her position, suspended a good twenty feet above the ground, Ambrosius saw her gaze lock once again on the target she had nearly destroyed earlier. Taking a deep breath, Natalia drew back both knives and released, sending the two pieces of metal spinning towards their target. One punctured the target's right eye in what would have been a fatal shot, while the other hit the target smack in the gut, right where she had been aiming at. The Gamemakers all applauded as she yanked a dangling piece of the knot, allowing her to drop a good twelve feet toward the ground. From there, she simply slipped her foot out of the loop and dropped nimbly onto the mats below. Ambrosius dismissed her, smiling. The Career pack was off to a remarkable start.

* * *

Unfortunately for Ambrosius, his good mood would be inevitably spoiled by the entry of the boy from 3, Claude Astrovsky. District 3 was always a terrible disappointment after the thrill of 1 and 2. Though the boy from the technology district was huge, he was unremarkable. After introducing himself, he headed straight to the weight station, chucked a few metal balls around and lifted some dumbells, and then simply stood there until Ambrosius dismissed him, shaking his head. This boy was a classic Bloodbath victim- big enough to feel confident enough to rush into battle, but not nearly skilled enough to be able to survive the fight.

At least the boy would stand a better chance than his district partner, Piper Alexander. The girl looked like a wisp of smoke as she entered, small, pale, and thin as a twig. After shakily introducing herself, she simply stood there, lost as to what she could do. Then her face brightened as an idea hit her. Heading over to one of the stone pillars that were interspersed throughout the room, she flattened herself against it. She was so pale and so thin that she almost disappeared, though she hadn't even used any camouflage. After doing so, she headed over to said station and began to experiment with different paints. Eventually, she managed to make herself blend into the table itself fairly well. Ambrosius dismissed her curtly. Camouflage might well save the girl's life in the arena, but it was very boring to just watch a tribute hide all the time. He made a note to make sure to always keep the girl moving next to the score he had scribbled down.

* * *

When Jayce Holaway from 4 entered, Ambrosius visibly sighed with relief. It had been almost painful to watch the pathetic tributes from 3. Though the boy from 3 was actually slightly larger than Jayce, it was evident that the Career could take down Claude without batting an eyelid. He started with throwing spears, proving himself to be decent with the weapons, before heading to the knot tying station. Sitting himself down on the ground, he took up a cord of rope and began to weave. Twenty minutes later, his net was finished- a strong, beautiful creation that could serve any number of purposes in the arena. Tying the net to one of the tridents he had grabbed earlier, he headed over to the ever-popular target range. Taking a deep breath and sighting one of the figures on the far right, he threw the weapon. It landed smack in the target's heart, landing with so much force that the Styrofoam figure was knocked to the floor, encased in the net. Even without a fatal blow, a tribute would be hopelessly caught in the net and at the boy's mercy.

The girl from 4, Savannah Morgan, entered soon after Jayce had been dismissed. After she had introduced herself, however, she didn't go straight to a station. Rather, she cast her eyes around the room, as if looking for something that just wasn't there. "Excuse me, but do you happen to have any throwing stars?" Savannah asked politely, looking Ambrosius straight in the eye. The Head Gamemaker smiled. Usually, tributes were far too nervous to make any requests of him.

"You there," he said, pointing to one of the junior Gamemakers, "Go to the weapons storage room and get this girl her throwing stars. On the double!" Looking shocked, the young man jumped up and bolted out the door, white as a sheet. Being singled out by the Head Gamemaker generally wasn't a good thing.

While she waited for her weapons, Savannah contended herself with scaling the rock wall and running laps around the room, both of which she did quite well. Just as soon as Ambrosius began to grow bored with watching the girl run circles, the junior Gamemaker returned, panting, his arms full of the sharp blades. After dumping them on the ground at Savannah's feet, he scurried back to his seat, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.

Stifling a giggle, Savannah thanked Ambrosius and the junior Gamemaker before taking up a few of the blades and facing the target range. In a blur of movement, three of the throwing stars were whizzing towards a target on the other end of the room. With three thumps, they landed, almost on top of each other, all embedded in the target's heart. Smiling to herself, Savannah quickly put two more in the targets eyes before throwing five more in an upside-down semicircle on the target's head. After nodding, amused, at the smiley face the girl had created on the target, Ambrosius dismissed Savannah. She had done well.

But, as the girl shut the door carefully behind her, Ambrosius realized that the Career districts had all already gone. It was on to the later districts. He was already longing for the time when his servants would wheel the Gamemakers' feast into the room. Watching most of the tributes from the outer districts was painfully boring.

* * *

The boy who entered next, Vincent DeLoria from 5, looked almost like he was intent on proving Ambrosius's assumption right. After three fast miles, he went over to the swords station, picking up a weapon. Though he put up a fight, the trainer quickly defeated him. Sighing dejectedly, Vince looked up almost pleadingly at Ambrosius, who dismissed him. The boy's performance would have been disappointing had he been expecting anything better.

Ambrosius did a double take as the girl from 5 entered. Surely this girl couldn't be a tribute from the electronics district! But, as he glanced back at the list of tributes, he noticed the girl's name: Rosalie _Aduriza_. She was the daughter of the family who basically controlled the district. Well, _that_ certainly explained the girl's confidence. She handily beat the trainer at hand-to-hand combat with a daggerbefore throwing several small throwing knives at a target with reasonable accuracy. The girl was fairly talented with weapons, but Ambrosius knew that her real strength wouldn't be revealed until the interviews. He dismissed her with a curt nod.

* * *

But now, he was _sure_ that the fun part of Evaluation Day was over. District 6 was next. Its tributes were _always_ pathetic. Its only victor, the winner of the 7th Games, had won by hiding out in a tree while a group of rabid hyena muttations slaughtered his competition. Ambrosius had almost lost his job _and_ his head for that accident. Which was why it was so important that he got back in Snow's good graces this year.

Damion Wells, the boy from 6, was certainly pathetic. He was quickly defeated in combat with the dagger, sword, and bare hands before he was dismissed, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Shaking his head, Ambrosius thought that the word 'pathetic' wouldn't even begin to describe the boy.

But, then again, if "pathetic" was too good for Damion, then how on earth would he describe his district partner, Sierra Jackson? The doughy blonde girl had to be shoved and locked into the room, wailing all the way. When she was finally subdued and coaxed into the middle of the room by the weary-looking Head Trainer, Atalanta, Sierra simply refused to budge. She sat there, sobbing, for a full forty minutes before three trainers managed to drag her out again. From her garbled words, Ambrosius managed to hear the phrases, "…Liars!", "…gonna die!" and "…but I'm special!" more times than he would care to count.

* * *

The boy from District 7 came as a relief after Sierra. He walked in calmly, introduced himself as Desmond Chordus, and walked determinedly over to the axe station that had been thus far avoided by all of the tributes. Taking up several of the weapons, he punctured five of the targets' hearts in quick succession before sprinting over to the other end of the room and completely demolishing a seventh, this time using an axe as a melee weapon. A ghost of a smile crossed Ambrosius's lips as he dismissed Desmond. Yes, this boy would be a fighter. He could make things interesting.

The girl, Nutmeg, was a bit of a letdown after Desmond. While the boy had been strong and powerful, Nutmeg was weak and willowy, looking incredibly fragile as she stood in front of the Gamemakers. She simply scaled the rock wall several times and swept the edible plants test before she was dismissed. In the lull between 7 and 8, the door on the other end of the room opened, admitting several servants who were wheeling carts of food toward the Gamemakers. Ambrosius sighed with relief. He was hungry after watching 14 tributes, and the feast would provide a good enough distraction for him to get through the rest of the outer districts. Taking a massive bite of the lemon-scented chicken, Ambrosius called for the boy from District 8 to enter.

* * *

Things seemed to be going downhill for Ambrosius as Andy Perez stepped into the room. This boy was seriously a midget. He was tiny! After introducing himself, so quiet that Ambrosius could hardly hear him, even with the microphones, Andy went over to the dagger-fighting station. The trainer there quickly defeated him. Andy then walked back to the center of the room, silently pleading to be released. Sighing, Ambrosius did so. This boy would be dead within seconds of the gong.

Ambrosius didn't expect much more from Andy's district partner, a 12-year-old girl who was only slightly taller than the boy. After Spencer Fields introduced herself, she headed straight for the knife-throwing station. Ambrosius was pleasantly surprised when several of the blades took up residence inside a bull's eye, while the rest were clustered just outside of it. From there, the little girl walked over to the archery station, grabbing the smallest, lightest bow and a quiver of arrows. Biting her tongue with concentration, she drew back an arrow, and released, sending the shaft just to the right of the target's heart. As she gained confidence, she managed to hit both of the target's eyes. Ambrosius was intrigued by the little girl. It looked almost as if she had been training. But nobody from 8 _ever_ trained. A career from that district would be looked upon as a traitor.

* * *

The boy from 9 who entered next was enormous, especially in comparison to Spencer. Bradley Truell introduced himself and went straight for the sword station, picking up a blade and testing its weight. Shrugging, he began to duel with the trainer there, who was by now completely exhausted. However, the man managed to defeat Bradley in a close fight. It was clear that the boy hadn't had much practice with a sword. Raw strength would be his biggest weapon, as Bradley demonstrated at the weight station. He could probably do some serious damage to the weaker tributes in the Bloodbath. Of course, against a Career, he wouldn't stand a chance.

The girl from 9 was far more competent than Ambrosius had expected her to be. In a close fight, she managed to defeat the trainer at the dagger station, though he was much bigger than she. Leila Vaniel then proceeded to scale the rock wall- it was really quite popular this year- before climbing on to the rafters. She swung across the room, treating the beams like monkey bars found in Capitol playgrounds. When she reached the other end of the room, she slid down the wall, using the friction to slow her fall so that she landed, unharmed, on the mats below. Ambrosius dismissed her, slightly confused. How on earth could the girl have learned to climb so well in the _grain_ district? He would have to send a memo to Bernard Flickerman to ask her about that in her interview.

* * *

If Ambrosius had thought that Sterling and Sef were massive, then he really had no words left to describe the giant of a boy from 10. He was enormous! He actually had to crouch down and walk through the door sideways just so that he could get into the room. Ambrosius, though he was sitting up on a stage, felt dwarfed by Tasi Merkava. This boy could probably crush both tributes from 8 without even breaking a sweat. It appeared that pure strength would be his greatest asset in the arena. Tasi excelled at the weights station before doing fairly well at the edible plants test, though he mixed up deadly nightlock and harmless blueberries. Ambrosius wondered how the boy, no, the _giant_, would do against smaller enemies. Like his favorite tarantula muttations.

The giant's district partner, Gray Wilson, was far smaller, but, for some reason, looked just as dangerous. There was a steely glint in her eyes as she introduced herself. From there, she walked straight towards a clear spot on the wall, foregoing the rock climbing station and instead using the tiny cracks in between the plaster blocks as hand and foot holds. She reached the ceiling quickly and then slid down the wall, landing easily just as Leila had. From there, she walked to the ever-popular dagger station, easily defeating the trainer. After doing so, she retained her dagger and grabbed a dummy, dragging it into the center of the room. She grabbed several jars of paint from the camouflage station and brought them over to the dummy, sitting down on the floor and setting to work. After writing something on the back of it, she drew a crude image of a chicken on its face, showing that, since she didn't exactly have a chicken-shaped dummy, this would be represented it. Gray then proceeded to gut the dummy, as if she was cleaning a chicken. She clearly knew how to feed herself- a valuable skill in the arena. Ambrosius dismissed her after she stood back up.

"You there, go clean that up," he said, pointing to one of the junior Gamemakers. The young man leapt bolt upright and hurried off the stage, screwing the cap back on the paint Gray had used and replacing it at the camouflage station. The junior Gamemaker then proceeded to drag the dummy out of the room, flipping it up and over his shoulder to do so more easily, bringing what Gray had written into light. On the back of the chicken-dummy, she had scribbled SNOW in bright red paint.

Taken aback, Ambrosius scribbled out the score he had written for Gray, replacing it with a far different number. This girl sure had guts, but he had no use for a rebel Victor. He took a minute to calm himself down before calling for Dante' Scott to enter. Just two more districts- four more tributes- and he would be done. Free! Perfectly allowed to spend the night relaxing on his couch with a bowl of popcorn.

* * *

But he still had to get through these last two districts. Ambrosius recognized the boy who stepped through the door next. Yes, he had been the one dressed as a potato for the Opening Ceremonies. He was no more impressive in training gear. Sure, he was on the larger side, but he looked totally useless. Apparently all he could do was lift weights; he didn't even attempt to pick up a weapon. Shaking his head, Ambrosius dismissed Dante'. District 11 males were usually more skilled than _that_ after spending a life doing hard work.

Chloe Chase, the girl he called next, was _tiny_- almost as small as the tributes from 8! She entered the room confidently, however, smiling as she introduced herself. She started by showing reasonable skill with the bow before walking over to a piece of equipment and dragging it into the center of the room, grunting with the strain. Having done so, she flipped a switch on the machine, which began to spit dull arrows at her. She dodged each shaft nimbly, never once being hit. Her agility was admirable. She would be hard to catch and even harder to kill.

* * *

Ambrosius was very grateful for the caffeine that was by now coursing through his veins. Had he not finished the entire pitcher of coffee, he was sure that the boy from 12 would have put him to sleep. Elijah Enstrom spent a full half hour running laps around the track before moving on to the rock wall- god, Ambrosius hated that wall- and scaling it several times, very slowly. Ambrosius actually had to cut the boy off at forty minutes. Really, he was quite thankful for the time limit. He didn't think that he would be able to stand much more of watching the boy stuggle to lift weights.

At last, the last tribute entered the room- the 13-year-old girl from 12. Ambrosius dearly wished that she would just hurry up and get it over with so he could go back to his apartment. The girl began by sweeping the edible plants test. Sea Jackson then took a deep breath and headed over to the archery station. Picking up a bow, she faced the long line of targets on one end of the room. She slowly loaded the weapon, drew back the arrow, and released. She grinned with relief as the arrow landed smack in the bull's eye. Gaining confidence, Sea walked over to the target range and picked up one of the round Styrofoam targets. She dragged it across the room to the arrow-shooting machine, which nobody had bothered to put away after Cherry's performance. She then mounted the target on top of the machine and took up her own bow again. Flipping the switch to turn the device on, Sea turned to face the machine. While dodging the arrows launched at her, she shot at the target, landing several of her own arrows in the bull's eye and a few just outside it. She then dropped to the floor, army crawling to the machine to avoid all of the flying projectiles, and turned it off. Ambrosius quickly dismissed Sea, relieved to finally be finished, but pleasantly surprised at her skill- something one wouldn't normally expect from a District 12 savage.

* * *

He was done! He was _finally_ done with the evaluations. He could almost throw a party for himself. Now that Ambrosius thought about it, that was exactly what he would do when he got back to his apartment. There was nothing more entertaining than watching the night's show when the training scores were revealed to the public with a bowl of popcorn and a cup of hot chocolate at his side.

* * *

_**A/N: Jeez, this chapter is ridiculously long! It was originally going to be one chapter, combined with the next one, but I thought: 6000+ words in one chapter? No. WAY too long. So, the next part will be posted about 2 seconds after this one. I worked my butt off to write this chapter, so I hope you like it! I'm sorry that I wasn't able to get this up last night, but better late than never . Stupid life got in the way. Thanks for actually having the patience to read through this entire chapter! :D **_

_**~ Lily**_


	17. Training Scores

**Hope- The 18****th**** Hunger Games**

* * *

Brett di Angelo sat stiffly on the couch next to his partner Kaleida, who was talking animatedly to Sparkle about the latest fashions in the Capitol. He smirked as he saw that, next to Sparkle, Sterling was looking every bit as uncomfortable as Brett. He really wished that he could just get the score review over with so he could go to bed. Hey, he needed sleep and all of the Capitol programs were always boring.

At last, it appeared that the program was starting. The screen showed Bernard Flickerman stepping out on to the stage, waving and smiling at the live audience. "Welcome, Panem! As I'm sure we all know, tonight is a very important night for our tributes! Are you ready to see their training scores?" Bernard shouted, grinning. A roar of applause greeted him. "Okay! Let's begin!" He said, sitting down in a chair in the center of the stage and clicking a button on a remote that was clearly only for show. The camera shifted from Bernard's smiling face to the massive screen behind him, which now showed the Capitol seal.

"Alright, folks!" Bernard's voice said energetically. On the screen, Sterling Morales's scowling face appeared. "For Sterling Morales from District 1…. 9!" The number flashed across the screen, and, next to Sparkle, Sterling grinned smugly.

"No less than I expected," he said.

"Ooh, Sterling, that's wonderful!" Sparkle said cheerily. "I wonder what _I_ got?" Brett cringed. Her voice was even higher-pitched than Kaleida's, and that was saying something. He just didn't know _what_ he would do if Sparkle emerged as this year's Victor.

After the audience had calmed down, Sparkle's smiling face replaced Sterling's on the screen. "For the lovely Sparkle Shines from District 1," Bernard said, "A 7!" Sterling snorted derisively, and Sparkle scowled.

"A 7? A 7? How dare he? I deserve at _least_ a 10!" Sparkle shouted, her voice rising even higher in pitch with anger. Brett winced openly. If _she_ was the Victor, well… suicide would probably be the better option.

"Sorry, sister," Sterling said, smirking. "I guess you just aren't up to scratch." At that, Sparkle looked ready to _scratch_ his eyeballs out. But Sterling was saved when Bernard announced that Sef Frelwood from District 2 had received a 10. Sparkle's mouth fell open. "See? Even _he_ got a 10! Am I ugly or something?" She screeched.

"Shut it, girl, and sit down," Brett said, finally fed up. "If my ears are permanently damaged, then I can make sure that yours are, too, in the Arena." Sparkle blanched. Everyone in 1 knew that Brett di Angelo did not make empty threats.

"And for the beautiful Natalia Elvin… also a 10!" Bernard announced. Sparkle glared at the screen before stomping out of the room, pouting. Brett sighed in relief. _Finally._

Claude Astrovsky from 3 received a 6, and his pathetic district partner, Piper Alexander, received a suitably pathetic score, a 2. The tributes from 4 were much more formidable. Jayce Holaway was awarded yet another 10, while his partner, Savannah Morgan, fell slightly shorter at a 9. Still, they would both be forces to be reckoned with in the Arena, especially after the Career alliance split up, as it inevitably would.

Vincent DeLoria from 5 received a 3, while his partner, Rosalie Aduriza, earned a 7. It was quite impressive for a girl from the technology district. Clearly, she had something up her sleeve. The only question was, _what?_

Damion Wells from 6 was even more pathetic than Vincent from 5, receiving a 2. "And, for the sweet Sierra Jackson, a… 0?" Bernard Flickerman announced, perplexed. Brett snorted. A _zero_? Was that even _possible?_ He then sat bolt upright. He could swear that he could hear wailing, almost as if there were a ghost in his apartment. It was faint, but it was there. It sounded as if it were coming from above him. Perhaps from 5 stories above him.

The unsmiling boy from 7 managed to pull a 9. Impressive. He was probably a skilled axe thrower- many of the lumber district's tributes were. Desmond Chordus's district partner Nutmeg Clearwater received just a 2. Brett shook his head, disappointed. He knew from his Victory Tour that were plenty of stocky, highly dangerous girls from that district. It was a shame that the honor of representing District 7 had gone to such a weakling.

Speaking of weaklings, the two tiny 12-year-olds from 8 were up next. It came as no surprise to Brett that Andy Perez received a 1. Not much more could be expected from a boy that size. The girl, however, managed to pull out a 6. This was certainly interesting. Brett wondered how in Panem she could have done it. But, of course, it wasn't important. Spencer Fields had absolutely no chance of winning the Games. Not with tributes like Sterling and Sef in the arena.

Bradley Truell, the large boy from 9, was awarded the same score as Spencer- a 6. His partner, Leila Vaniel, received a 5. Brett yawned loudly. District 9 would be inconsequential in these Games.

The massive boy from 10, Tasi Merkava, received an 8- probably based on pure strength. The boy could probably crush Brett himself with his bare hands. And that was certainly saying something. His district partner, Gray Wilson, however, received a 1. Brett wrinkled his forehead, confused. He had been watching the girl during the Opening Ceremonies, and she had looked deserving of a far higher score. He then shrugged the matter off. If the girl had received a 12 instead of a 1, Sterling still would be able to snap her neck in a second.

The potato-boy from 11 was given a 4. Brett nodded listlessly, unconcerned. No matter what score he got, Dante' Scott wouldn't be a threat. He clearly just didn't have the will to live that was necessary to come out of the arena alive. Chloe Chase, also from 11, pulled a 6, despite her size. She would probably make it far just by hiding- like how Anastasia Sanders, 11's only mentor, had won her own Games.

Elijah Enstrom from 12 was awarded a 5. This was totally normal for a tribute from 12. Not much was ever expected from them. Which was why Jamee Lawrence's victory had been so shocking to the rest of Panem. The little Sea Jackson girl, also from 12, scored a 7. Perhaps she was especially athletic? She looked fast enough. But Brett didn't think that that was enough to merit a 7. The girl's secret wasn't important. He had instructed Sterling to watch out for just the other Careers. The other tributes would simply be nuisances.

Brett stood up as Bernard Flickerman's face reappeared on the screen. Sleep was far more interesting than whatever Bernard had to say about the tributes. Plus, he really did need the rest. Tomorrow would be a long day getting Sterling ready for his interview.

* * *

TRAINING SCORES:

Sterling Morales: 9 Sparkle Shines: 7

Sef Frelwood: 10 Natalia Elvin: 10

Claude Astrovsky: 6 Piper Alexander: 2

Jayce Holaway: 10 Savannah Morgan: 9

Vincent DeLoria: 3 Rosalie Aduriza: 7

Damion Wells: 2 Sierra Jackson: 0

Desmond Chordus: 9 Nutmeg Clearwater: 2

Andy Perez: 1 Spencer Fields: 6

Bradley Truell: 6 Leila Vaniel: 5

Tasi Merkava: 8 Gray Wilson: 1

Dante' Scott: 4 Chloe Chase: 6

Elijah Enstrom: 5 Sea Jackson: 7

* * *

_**A/N: Now, I promise that the next chapter will be interviews! It will probably be another very long chapter, so I might not be able to get it up tomorrow night. I WILL try my best, though. It's just that I have to be up at 6 in the morning every morning this week for pony club camp. I hope that you liked this chapter, though! Thanks so much to all who have (and hopefully will continue to) review. **_

_**~ Lily**_


	18. Interviews

**Hope- The 18****th**** Hunger Games**

* * *

Elnora Hansen fidgeted in her seat. This much sitting in such a short span of time wasn't good for her old bones. It was an occupational hazard of being a sponsor. But she certainly hoped that all this trouble would be worth it when the interviews started. There was just nothing like watching the tributes live. It gave her a thrill that nothing else save entering the lottery could. Obviously, she had had about as much luck in her lottery endeavors as she had had with sponsoring tributes.

Sighing, Elnora glanced down at her watch. She could swear that she had been sitting here for _hours_. But her watch said that there were still fifteen more minutes until the interviews were due to start.

"Darryl, how long have we been here?" Elnora asked. She really couldn't remember when she and her camera Avox had arrived. Darryl held up all ten of his fingers, setting the video camera carefully on his lap before he did so. "Ten hours? I _knew_ we'd been waiting here for ages!" Elnora exclaimed triumphantly. But Darryl shook his head vigorously, holding up the ten fingers again and then pointing to the longer hand on Elnora's watch. "Ten _minutes_?" Elnora said, astounded. She had been so _sure_ that the ten hours was realistic. Her knees certainly ached enough for it to have been that long.

"Darryl, would you be a dear and go buy a bottle of lemonade for me?" Elnora asked heavily. If she had to sit here for a full fifteen more minutes, then she might as well do it with her favorite drink by her side. Elnora was very fond of lemonade. Her eyes followed Darryl as he carefully edged his way out of their row of seats and walked up the stairs in the stands towards one of the drink vendors, carrying the wad of cash that Elnora had given him for the purpose of acquiring her prized lemonade. But she soon grew bored with watching her Avox carefully count out bills to pay for the drink. Instead, her eyes wandered to the back of Ambrosius Tax, the Head Gamemaker and the empty seat next to him that was obviously intended for President Snow himself. He would be sitting only three rows in front of her!

But even the back of the Head Gamemaker's head could hold Elnora's attention for only so long. She sighed, resigned to a whole ten more minutes of boredom, but then lit up again when an idea struck her. Whipping out her precious notebook, she opened it to the section for the 18th Games. It would probably be smart to remind herself which tributes she was supposed to be watching _before_ the Interviews started rather than after. Plus, she needed to have her notebook ready anyway so she could write down her final decision after all of the interviews were over.

After a few minutes of scanning over what she had written in her notebook, a tap on Elnora's shoulder made her look up. Darryl was finally back with her lemonade. Elnora was very relieved not to see cranky old Phyllis when she thanked Darryl this time. Not like what had happened on Arrival Day. Elnora smiled smugly. It seemed that _Phyllis_ hadn't gotten invited into the President's section, while _she_ had. Elnora made a mental note to remind Phyllis of that fact later.

Sipping her lemonade, Elnora glanced at her watch yet again. Seven minutes to go. But just as that thought crossed her mind, Bernard Flickerman stepped on to the stage. Elnora was very confused at first- why in Panem would they start so early?- but then she remembered about the trains on Arrival Day. She _really_ needed to get her watch checked.

"Welcome, welcome!" Bernard Flickerman shouted, cheerily waving at the crowd. "Good evening to all of Panem!" As Elnora raised her gaze to watch the stage instead of her stupid watch, she noticed that President Snow now occupied the empty seat next to Ambrosius Tax. She hadn't seen him come in.

"I know that we're all excited for our interviews. Are you ready to welcome our tributes to the stage?" Bernard asked, grinning widely, his voice booming throughout the stadium. An enormous roar of applause answered him, and Elnora winced. When she looked pleadingly at Darryl, he sighed, reached into his bag, and pulled out her favorite pair of pink fluffy earmuffs. They were very fashionable, and they were great for dimming loud noises. Elnora certainly didn't need aching knees _and_ damaged eardrums. Time enough for that when she was Phyllis's age.

After the noise had died down a bit, Bernard motioned to someone offstage, and the tributes began to file onto the stage, taking their seats in the long rows of chairs near the back of the stage. My, did that Sef boy from 2 look _handsome_. Mind, the other tributes weren't too shabby, either. Except maybe for the little ones from 8 and the annoying one from 6. But Sef, in that ocean-blue suit that just matched his eyes… A sharp poke in the side brought Elnora back to her senses. She looked to her right and saw the offending spoon still in her Avox's hand. This time, Darryl had come prepared.

Rolling her eyes at him, Elnora sighed and turned to face the stage again, forcing herself to look at some of the tributes _other than_ Sef. Though, of course, he _was_ on her watch list, so it couldn't hurt if she paid him a _bit_ more attention than the others… Elnora glared at Darryl as she felt another poke in her side. Spoons were _sharp_.

Turning huffily to face the stage yet again, Elnora saw that Bernard was calling the ditzy girl from 1, Sparkle Shines, forward. She was dressed in a pink… dress? But it couldn't be a dress- it fit like a glove and was see-through in almost every area. As the girl sat down, Elnora decided that she looked good enough, though not stunning, in her… garment. She still thought that the girl would look good with rubies. And they would have gone wonderfully with the pink of her garment! Elnora sighed yet again and shook her head slowly. Some days, she wished that she could have been a stylist. But, then again, stylists couldn't be sponsors! It really was a shame that they didn't get to be. Hunger Games season was Elnora's favorite part of the year.

"What was that for?" Elnora snapped as she felt a third poke in the side. She was sure that it was going to leave a bruise. When she looked up to glare at Darryl, she saw that he was pointing at the stage. Bernard was sinking into his seat, an ornate cushioned chair in the middle of the stage right next to the one that Sparkle was currently occupying. Elnora saw a small man next to Ambrosius Tax start a stop watch as Bernard welcomed Sparkle to the Capitol.

"Thank you, Bernard! I've been looking forward to this my whole life!" Sparkle said excitedly, her laugh absurdly high pitched. Elnora was very thankful for her earmuffs.

"So I take it you've been planning on volunteering for quite a while?" Bernard asked, his voice curious.

"Oh, yes! I've always wanted the honor of representing District 1. Plus, it's been an amazing opportunity to be able to visit the Capitol and meet the people here. It's an experience I wouldn't trade for _anything_!" Sparkle gushed, grinning at the audience and flashing almost painfully white teeth.

"Well, I'm sure we're all very glad that you have been able to visit us," Bernard said politely. A roar of applause from the crowd showed their agreement with his words. "So, what do you think about your chances in the Arena, Miss Sparkle," Bernard asked, his voice more serious now.

Sparkle responded with yet another high-pitched laugh. Elnora could swear that she heard a couple of wine glasses shatter. "I'm going to win, of course! I didn't come all this way for nothing!"

Bernard responded with a grin. "Surely you've enjoyed _something_ about the Capitol? I mean, we're not _all_ monsters. I dunno about myself, though…"

"Oh, Bernard, you're wonderful! And one thing I _love_ about the Capitol is being able to see all of the new fashions that we wouldn't get to see until next year in District 1. When I was walking into the Training Center a few days ago, I saw the _coolest_ makeover. There was this one lady who had her skin dyed the most _lovely_ shade of yellow, and she'd her nose altered and dyed to make it look like a duck's bill! It was one of the most amazing things I've ever seen!" At this, Elnora could hear, even with her earmuffs, the sound of one woman a few sections over screaming hysterically. As a few security guards came to take her away, Elnora saw a flash of yellow.

"So, Sparkle, going back to the Arena, what do you think will be your most valuable skill in there?" Bernard asked, steering the conversation back to something more interesting. Elnora was grateful for this. She needed to know if this girl was good for anything other than bursting people's eardrums.

"Well, I've got the looks, and that's all that matters," Sparkle purred, winking at the cameras and blowing kisses to the audience. Elnora rolled her eyes. So her first impression had been right. Sparkle was useless.

A timer went off both on the stage and three rows ahead of Elnora, signaling the end of Sparkle's interview. "Well, it looks like that's all the time we have, folks. Give a big hand to Sparkle Shines!" Bernard announced, offering a hand to help Sparkle up. She strutted back to her seat, the one farthest to the right in the front row. As she crossed the steps, Elnora noticed the girl's shoes for the first time. She really had _no_ idea how the girl managed to walk in seven inch electric blue stiletto heels. If Elnora even _tried_, she knew that she would end up with two broken ankles _and_ a broken face in a matter of seconds.

* * *

After Sparkle had taken her seat, crossing her legs and adopting a very… _inviting_ pose, Sterling Morales stood up, exaggerating the movement so that the sleeves of his gold suit bulged as the muscles underneath them flexed. Wearing his classic scowl, Sterling made his way over to the chair in the center of the stage that Sparkle had just vacated.

"Hi, Sterling, welcome to the stage! How are you?" Bernard boomed jovially as Sterling took his seat, leaning back and crossing his legs.

"Pretty good, seeing as I'm about to become a Victor," Sterling drawled, stretching back and cracking his knuckles while replacing his scowl with a cocky smirk.

"Well, you sure sound confident," Bernard said, nodding and grinning. "But, even so, what do you think will be your biggest challenge in the arena?"

"Challenge?" Sterling asked, snorting derisively. "The only issue I'll have is getting out before dinner."

At that, Bernard replaced his inquisitive expression with another grin. "Wouldn't want to miss a Capitol meal, would you? Too bad for me, my wife doesn't seem to like the idea of having dinner _and_ supper..." Bernard then looked to Sterling, silently asking the boy to continue the conversation, but Sterling didn't oblige. Rather, he simply leaned back further in his chair, letting out a deep sigh and rolling his eyes at Bernard's comment. Bernard frowned before taking a breath and renewing his questioning, asking Sterling about his life back home, favorite foods, and reasons for volunteering. He was met with one-word answers and ever-infuriating cocky smirks after every question. At last, the buzzer went off and Sterling returned to his seat, once again putting on his signature scowl.

Elnora copied Bernard's momentary frown, scribbling out Sterling's name entirely. The boy was entirely too cocky. Even his dunderhead of a partner would be able to stab him in the back. Elnora thought that he would make it to the third day. Maybe. Beside her, Darryl nodded in approval as Sterling Morales vanished from Elnora's list of favored tributes.

* * *

Elnora looked up from her notebook just in time to see Natalia Elvin take her seat. Unlike Sterling, she perched on the very edge of her chair, looking fierce. The golden-haired girl reminded Elnora of a Tracker Jacker. Tiny, but deadly. And very, _very_ painful.

"Welcome, Miss Natalia! How are you enjoying your stay in the Capitol?" Bernard asked once Natalia was settled.

"I don't see the point of it. We should just be able to go straight into the Arena." Natalia answered, her dark green eyes glinting dangerously.

"Well, then…" Bernard said, taken aback. "I'm glad to see you're so… enthusiastic about the Games. I take it that's why you chose to volunteer?"

"I volunteered because I know I'll win. That crown will be mine. Anyone dumb enough to stand in my way will end up dead. The other tributes better watch their backs. I may just look like a pretty little girl, but I'm much more than that," Natalia said, her voice icy and deadly serious. Elnora could see several of the tributes sitting behind Natalia blanch with fear.

"Well, all of us here in the Capitol are looking forward to seeing your skills in the arena, Natalia," Bernard said, trying to bring some levity to the interview.

"Oh, you will," Natalia said, smirking humorlessly. "So will the other tributes." At that… cheerful comment, a buzzer went off, signaling the end of Natalia's interview. Several of the tributes visibly sighed with relief, clearly intimidated by the tiny Career.

Now, this left Elnora in a terrible dilemma. Natalia Elvin certainly seemed capable _and_ deadly, but still… If the girl were left weaponless, she would be dead in a matter of seconds. In hand-to-hand combat, she wouldn't stand a chance. Elnora chewed on the end of her pen absentmindedly, thinking over her judgment of Natalia. Lost in thought, she barely felt the poke in her side. She looked up and saw that Darryl had used the dull end of the spoon this time. The Avox pointed to Natalia's name and shook his head. Elnora shrugged and scribbled the name out grudgingly. She would never admit it, but she knew that Darryl generally had better judgment than she did.

* * *

"Favorite weapon?" Sef Frelwood was saying. Elnora whipped her head up to focus on the stage, cracking her neck painfully in the process. She had missed Sef's entrance while she had been debating considering Natalia. "Spears. You can fight at close range and at a distance. But anything that can cause damage works. Like my bare fists." Behind Sef, Natalia smirked in agreement.

"So you'll always have something to fight with in the Arena," Bernard said, nodding in agreement. "What do you think you'll be fighting against, besides the other tributes?"

"I'd like to see some mutts," Sef said after a brief pause. "The Games that have them are always more interesting." At this, Elnora's eyes widened. This boy was just _asking_ for trouble. Requesting mutts was as good as committing suicide. This alone got Sef Frelwood's name crossed off of Elnora's final list. She couldn't have her tribute getting ripped to pieces by some Capitol creation.

* * *

"Let's give a huge thank you to Sef Frelwood!" Bernard shouted. Elnora had apparently just missed the buzzer. But it was totally fine for her to zone out. The sickly girl from 3 was next. She wouldn't stand a chance in the Arena. All the same, she should probably try to stay awake. Elnora couldn't afford to be groggy during District 4's interviews.

Elnora watched as Piper Alexander rose from her seat, visibly shaking. She saw a portly black-haired stylist give the girl a reassuring smile and a thumbs-up. Piper attempted one in return, with reasonable success. It was much better than her grimace during the Opening Ceremonies.

"Well, hello, Miss Piper!" Bernard said kindly as Piper sat down.

"Hi, Mr. Flickerman," she said, her voice barely audible.

"Oh, please, you know it's Bernard!" the host said, patting Piper on the back and almost sending her flying out of her chair.

"Hi, Bernard," Piper said, louder this time and with a much more genuine smile.

"That's the spirit!" Bernard boomed happily. "How are you?"

"Well, I've been getting the royal treatment here in the Capitol for a whole week. So, I'd have to say I'm pretty good," Piper said, grinning and glancing to the black-haired stylist sitting on one end of the stage for reassurance. She gave Piper two thumbs up and a comforting smile.

"How about a crown to go with the royal treatment?" Bernard asked, toning his voice down slightly.

"You mean a Victor's crown?" Piper asked.

"That's the one!" Bernard affirmed.

"People might not think that I have the best chance, but I'm going to try my hardest anyways. There's no telling what could happen in the Arena," Piper said, her voice far more confident than Elnora had ever heard it. The girl had probably been practicing this response for hours. Piper's courage was admirable, but she still didn't stand a chance in the Arena. No matter _what_ happened.

* * *

Elnora would have liked to say that she paid attention through the rest of Piper's interview, but, by the time she glanced back up to the stage, Claude Astrovsky was sitting in the chair instead of his district partner. She was actually quite surprised that Darryl had let her zone out for this long. He probably didn't think that District 3 was worth paying attention to. Yes, this must be right. Neither of its tributes had even made it on to Elnora's initial list.

"So, you're going to be the oldest tribute to ever enter the Arena, you know," Bernard was saying conversationally to Claude.

"Well, my 19th birthday _is_ on the first day, so I kind of figured," Claude said. Then, taking a deep breath, he continued. "Hey, Mr. Tax!" He shouted, directing his voice straight towards the stands where Elnora, President Snow, and Ambrosius Tax were sitting. "Can you drop a chocolate chip cookie into the Arena for me on my birthday?" At this, Ambrosius looked outraged. Elnora could practically see the steam gushing out of his ears as he shook his head stiffly. Up on the stage, Claude scowled and flipped him off. Elnora grinned. Sure, this boy had just gotten himself a death sentence, but he sure had guts. And a really good sense of humor.

"It was worth a try," Claude said, turning back to Bernard and shrugging. "Oh, and while I'm at it, I'm supposed to give special shout-outs to Grey Loksund and Sebastian Harold during my interview. This is for you guys!" Elnora nodded, smiling. Yes, Claude definitely had guts. She hoped that his interview made this year's Game tape. Somehow, she doubted it would. A buzzer sounded- obviously prematurely- and Claude made his way back to his seat, smirking and winking at a camera.

* * *

Elnora sat bolt upright. District 4 was up next, and both of its tributes would definitely be contenders this year. Savannah Morgan stood up after Claude had taken his seat, smiling and walking confidently to the center of the stage. This girl, like Natalia and most definitely _unlike_ Sparkle, was both beautiful _and_ deadly. A 9 in training was nothing to be sneezed at, though 3 of the other Careers had managed 10s.

"Hi, Bernard!" Savannah said, not waiting for the host to speak first.

"Well, hello Savannah," Bernard grinned back. Elnora wondered whether his face ever got tired from smiling so much. "How are you this fine evening?"

"I'm doing pretty good, how about you?" Savannah replied.

"I'm absolutely wonderfully, but this is about you, Miss Savannah!" Bernard said. Elnora was really getting sick of this small talk. "What were your reasons for volunteering, other than getting to talk to me, of course?" This last question generated a roar of laughter from the audience, and Savannah giggled too.

"Well, I obviously volunteered. Because… because I've always wanted to be able to bring honor to my District. So I could make my family proud," Savannah said, with a slight pause as she gave her reasoning.

"And a worthy goal that is! I'm sure all of District 4 is rooting for you," Bernard said politely.

"And Jayce, too," Savannah pointed out. "I mean, they're rooting for Jayce _and_ me," she corrected herself. Bernard nodded in agreement. "But yeah, it's nice to know that everyone back home is on my side. I'll be able to remember that even in an arena where everyone wants to kill me."

"But surely you'll have allies?" Bernard asked, confused.

Savannah nodded quickly in agreement. "Of course, I'm part of a pretty big alliance. And I plan on sticking with my allies for as long as possible. But you know that only one person can win."

Bernard nodded again. "I suppose you're right. But it's nice to have a group you can count on."

Savannah smiled. "Yes, I'd trust my allies with my life. I just hope that other tributes will be able to trust me." At this, Bernard looked confused. And with good reason. Elnora knew that any tribute who trusted a Career would probably be tortured to death. A quick end would be merciful. "I don't care what people think of me. Just because I'm a Career doesn't mean I can't be nice," Savannah said defensively. A buzzer sounded, ending Savannah's interview.

Elnora crossed Savannah's name off of her list. A nice Career would never survive. Savannah's allies would destroy her at her first sign of weakness. It really was a shame, though. Savannah was a charming girl.

* * *

Next up was Jayce Holaway, Savannah's district partner. He stood up just as Savannah vacated her seat, giving her a grin and a low five as he made his way to the center of the stage. "Hullo, Bernard!" Jayce said as he sank into the chair, totally relaxed.

"Hi, Jayce! Welcome to the Capitol!" Bernard boomed, grinning and opening his arms wide as if trying to grasp the sky. "How has your week been?"

"Well, I've made it through in one piece," Jayce said, laughing, "But just barely. That shower arm nearly knocked me into the end of next week! And the ice-water wake-ups every morning didn't help, either," he continued, mock-glaring at his mentor, who smirked.

"It's a good thing you made it to the interviews, then," Bernard agreed, chuckling. "Do you think you'll make it as far next week?"

"I am going to win," Jayce said seriously, "So that's a definite yes. I just hope that this isn't one of those long Games, like the 5th. That was what, like four months?"

"Fifteen weeks," Bernard agreed, nodding. "But we wouldn't want them over _too_ fast though, would we?"

"I dunno," Jayce said, grinning. "I'd kill to get a home-cooked meal. Not that the lamb stew here isn't delicious… It's just my mom's catfish pot pies are to die for. Not that I plan on dying, though."

"I don't suppose I could crash your house and sample a bit of your mother's cooking?" Bernard asked, grinning and patting his round belly.

"I'll have to ask my mom first. Apparently it's pretty hard to keep food in the house. She seems to think that I eat like a starving pig." This generated a roar of laughter from the crowd. Jayce shrugged, grinning, and a buzzer went off. Bernard thanked Jayce and the boy returned to his seat, waving to the crowd as he went.

Elnora circled Jayce's name, adding him to her final list. He was obviously talented with weapons and would do well in the arena- his 10 in training proved that- and he seemed likeable enough. Jayce didn't seem like the type to go mad in the arena. Not like all too many of the other Careers that Elnora had sponsored over the years. Of course, he wasn't her final choice yet, but he would be a contender. Beside her, Darryl nodded his approval.

* * *

After Jayce had settled back into his seat, Rosalie Aduriza swept towards the center of the stage, wearing a winning smile and an elegant red dress. She carefully tucked her skirt under herself as she sat down in the chair next to Bernard's. After she had returned his greeting, Bernard proceeded to ask her why she had volunteered.

"It's been a while since District 5 has had a Victor, hasn't it? I know I'll be able to win." As Rosalie said the words, Elnora found herself nodding in agreement. She shook her head quickly, clearing her thoughts. For heavens' sake, the girl had only gotten a 7 in training! She was probably all bark and no bite. But still, the girl was definitely smart. Maybe smart enough to come out of the Arena alive.

"Well, good luck to you, Miss Rosalie," Bernard said. "Do you have a plan for how you're going to make that happen?"

"I do, but it wouldn't be any fun if I told you all of it, now would it? I'm part of a strong alliance, and we've come up with plans for most scenarios. You'll just have to trust me on the rest," Rosalie said, addressing the crowd during the last part of her response. Again, Elnora found herself nodding in agreement as the rest of the crowd cheered. What was this girl doing? The crowd was all over her after just a couple of sentences. And then Elnora remembered. Of course. An Aduriza could probably get half of Panem to follow them to a land of flying potatoes on their word alone. Speaking of potatoes, Elnora would rather like a big plate of mashed ones to go with her lemonade. She had skipped dinner so that she could have some more time to perfect her hair. She was rather proud of the elegant bun she had created.

A buzzer sounding cut Elnora's thoughts short. Rosalie's interview was over. Elnora glared at Darryl. How could he have let her get away with daydreaming about mashed potatoes during one of the most important interviews? But Darryl didn't seem to notice Elnora's scowl. He seemed entirely uninterested in Rosalie. Elnora supposed that he didn't think that Rosalie was even worth considering. So, Elnora shrugged and scribbled Rosalie's name out. If the girl won- and with Elnora's luck, she probably would- she could just blame Darryl and the unfortunate lack of mashed potatoes at the food stands.

* * *

The next interview- Vincent DeLoria's- was dull. Of course, Elnora wasn't able to zone out for any of it. The boy mostly talked about his life back in District 5. It sounded terribly boring. Working at a power plant 364 days a year didn't exactly sound like Elnora's idea of fun. At least the boy had gotten to spend a week in the Capitol. He would surely die in the Arena. Probably on the first day.

The pasty blonde girl from 6 was called up after Vincent's interview finally ended. Her face was tear-stained, but she looked oddly determined. To do what, Elnora couldn't fathom. Sierra Jackson didn't wait for Bernard to speak before she began herself. "Hi I'm Sierra Jackson and I was reaped and I know I'm going to die but now you have to listen to me for two whole minutes. You have to listen!" At this abrupt introduction, Bernard looked taken aback. He opened his mouth to speak, but Sierra cut him off.

"." Sierra paused to take a massive breath before continuing her life story. And Elnora had thought that _Sparkle's_ voice was annoying… "Ithinkit'saprettynametoodoyoulikeit?" Sierra didn't pause for Bernard to answer. ". ExceptnobodythinksI'mspecialanymoretheysayI'mannoying. I'mnotthatannoyingamI?" The answer was a definite yes. Elnora seriously doubted that she could survive a full two minutes of this. Pressing her earmuffs tightly against her ears, Elnora tried desperately to zone the little girl out. Needless to say, the next two minutes were painful. Elnora was very relieved when the buzzer cut off Sierra's narrative of singing at an orphanage talent show. She seriously pitied the other children there.

Damion Wells's interview was just as dull as Vincent's, but it came as a welcome relief after Sierra's. Nutmeg Clearwater from 7 was also unimpressive. No more than Elnora had expected her to be. All the girl did was babble on about how the forest was her home and how much she loved her brother. It was a pity that they didn't pick one of the stronger ones from the lumber district.

* * *

Desmond Chordus certainly qualified as one of the stronger ones. His 9 in training had caught Elnora's eye, and she was determined to watch his interview like a starving hawk. After the standard greetings, Bernard proceeded to question the boy about his tactics in the Arena.

"Of course I have an Arena strategy. I don't have a death wish. But no, I don't have allies. Again, I don't have a death wish. A friendly sword can turn into a knife in the back all too quickly," Desmond replied, answering Bernard's previous question.

"That's certainly one way of thinking. Before our time runs out, is there anything else you'd like to say?" Bernard asked.

"Yes. A message to the other tributes. No matter who you are, no matter what you do, no matter if I like you or not, if I have an axe, I will throw it... But, I will still lie a rose on your grave."

A buzzer sounded and Elnora nodded approvingly. She liked this boy's attitude. He wasn't afraid to kill, but he wasn't a bloodthirsty nutcase, either. A perfect balance of compassion and the will to survive. She circled Desmond Chordus's name. He was strong and smart. But he had also just made himself a target and an enemy to all of the other tributes. Especially the Careers.

* * *

The twelve-year-old who had somehow pulled a 6 stepped up after Desmond. Spencer mostly just talked about her strategies for the Arena. The girl seemed to be looking forward to going in there. Didn't she know that she was going to die? Did she actually think that she stood a chance? As Spencer said, "When I plan to do something, it goes as planned. And I plan to win." Elnora's question was answered. Of course, she _could_ be hiding something with that 6, but Elnora's better judgment told her that the girl would probably die on the first day.

Andy Perez from 8 was pathetic. He sat there, sniffling, throughout the whole interview. While Elnora did indeed feel sorry that the boy wouldn't be seeing his little sister again, he really only needed to make the point once. At least his interview wasn't _nearly_ as painful as Sierra's.

* * *

Leila Vaniel's interview was far more interesting. Elnora highly doubted that Bernard would bring up the topic of her rigged Reaping, but she was hopeful nonetheless. Leila talked for a while about her home, especially about her older brother. She also seemed to be very confident in her alliance, though she wouldn't say who her partners were.

"So, Leila, do you think that you have a good chance of making it home?" Bernard asked her while they were still on the topic of the upcoming Games.

"Well, my brother said that if I don't come back, he'll help himself to my stuff. How can I let him do that?" Leila said, causing the entire audience to roar with laughter. Elnora chuckled. This girl was witty. Still, with only a 5 in training, the girl wouldn't stand a chance in combat. She would be caught eventually. If the Careers didn't get her, the Gamemakers would. It really was too bad that Elnora had to cross Leila off her list. She rather liked the girl.

Bradley Truell's interview was right after Leila's. Quite honestly, Elnora would never admit that she had ever even considered him. Apparently even her dead husband could judge first impressions better than she could. But there was no harm done; she could just scribble his name off her list and totally forget about the boy. He'd be dead on the first day anyway. Bradley reminded Elnora strongly of a decaying log as he sat during his interview, giving answers that made most of Sterling's look verbose. Elnora really couldn't understand why the boy wouldn't _try_. He was certainly big and strong enough to stand a chance. He just didn't have the will to live he needed.

* * *

The girl from 10 definitely had the fire. Gray Wilson was determined to survive. Elnora could see it in her eyes, even as the girl greeted Bernard.

"So, Gray, what have you missed most about home since you've come to the Capitol?" Bernard asked, thankfully cutting most of the small talk.

"Doing an honest day's work. I haven't exactly enjoyed being fattened up like a pig for slaughter," Gray said, glaring right at President Snow. Bernard frowned, but composed himself quickly.

"Oh, surely the Capitol isn't _that_ bad? Do you miss your family?"

"What's left of it, yes. I wouldn't be human if I didn't miss the little brother I practically raised," Gray said, her voice icy and biting. Elnora knew that the girl probably blamed the Capitol for every bad thing in her life. And she probably had good reason to.

"Well, I'm sure that he and everyone back home are all rooting for you," Bernard said, trying desperately to turn the interview back to something positive. Gray wasn't only putting herself in danger during this interview. If Snow wasn't happy with him, then he was dead. Literally. Gray nodded in agreement, smiling a little, but bitterly.

"I have to make it home for him. Without me, he starves."

At this, Bernard frowned. "Surely there's the Community Home? They'll take him in even if you don't make it."

Grey snorted. "You really think that? Of course you do. You're from the Capitol. Out in the Districts, food doesn't appear out of nowhere. Fashion isn't on the top of your priority list. People don't have the money to take in starving little boys. So they won't. It's funny that they call _these_ the Hunger Games. In here, at least you can die quickly. But I tell you, I have no intention of dying."

Three rows down, Elnora could see the small man next to Ambrosius Tax frantically punching a button. After he set the box down and stomped on it, the end-of-interview buzzer went off, cutting Gray's interview short. They couldn't afford to let her continue talking like that. It was treason. And it would plant seeds of doubt in the Capitol citizens' minds. Gray's courage in speaking out during her interview was admirable, but Elnora knew that the girl had just gotten herself a death sentence. Probably a particularly painful one.

* * *

After the fire of Gray's interview, the giant-boy's seemed remarkably dull. Tasi spent most of his interview talking about his life back home, especially about his dog. He was portraying the gentle giant angle perfectly. But Elnora knew not to buy into it. Sure, he might be strong, but a knife to the heart or the temple would kill him quite easily. Plus, with all his talk about walks in the fields with his dog and adoptive father, Elnora didn't think that this boy would have the heart to kill when the time came to do so.

* * *

Chloe Chase's interview followed Tasi's. The tiny girl wore a cheerful smile as she strode over to her seat, waving to the crowd.

"Hello, Chloe," Bernard said, once the applause for her entrance had died down.

"Just call me Cherry, everyone else does," Chloe, or Cherry said.

"Okay then, Cherry. It does suit you," Bernard said, also smiling. "What's been your favorite thing about your stay in the Capitol?"

"Definitely the cherry cobbler! I've never had it before, and, oh man, it's amazing. If I win, my mom's going to have to learn how to make it. I could eat it by the bucketful- if I could keep my sisters out of it, that is."

Bernard laughed, but then adopted a much more serious expression. "You said _if_ you make it out of the Arena. What do you think your chances are of doing that?"

"My chances are as good as anybody's. Don't underestimate me, it might be the last thing you do," Cherry said, grinning evilly and then laughing. "Only fate will decide."

"Spoken like a wise man," Bernard said, nodding in fake reverence.

"I'm a man? Oh gosh, what is my boyfriend going to say?" Cherry said, with mock concern. Both she and Bernard burst into laughter, along with the rest of the audience.

"So you have a boyfriend?" Bernard asked, raising his eyebrows.

Cherry took the hint and continued. "Yup, his name is Aaron, and he's pretty awesome. We grew up together, because our parents are friends, and he asked me out three years ago. My token is actually a ring that he gave me a week before the reaping." At this, Bernard's mouth dropped open. "No, not an engagement ring!" Cherry quickly corrected. "An anniversary present."

Bernard nodded in understanding. "I gotcha. Too bad, it would have made such a good story!"

"Aw, darn. You know, I've _always_ wanted to star in those gossip columns. Life's ambition, really," Cherry said sarcastically, grinning.

"Well, if you're the Victor, you just might," Bernard said, just as the buzzer went off. Elnora was glad that the next tribute was only Dante' Scott, a surefire Bloodbath. It would give her more time to think about Cherry. Because there was much thinking to be done. Cherry had really blown her interview out of the water. She hadn't had to give away any tactical information, and she had shown Elnora that she had a friendly personality that would be good for attracting decent allies. Though the girl's 6 in training was a bit low, it also ensured that she wouldn't be a target for the Careers. She could just use her size and mobility to hide out until the last few days of the Game. But therein lay the issue: Cherry's size. The girl was even smaller than Natalia from 2. Even the sniveling girl from 6 could squash Cherry like a bug if it came to hand-to-hand combat. It was likely that Cherry's score had been based on her agility alone, though she might know how to handle a smaller weapon. Hence the dilemma. Should she support a runner or a fighter? Elnora crossed out Cherry's name. Her tribute didn't have to just make it far. Her tribute had to win.

* * *

By the time Elnora looked up from her notebook, Dante's interview was almost over. He, like Bradley and Sterling, was answering all of Bernard's questions with grunts and one-word answers. Elnora yawned widely. The sugar from her lemonade was starting to wear off and all too many of the later districts' tributes were terribly boring. But at least the girl from 12 should be interesting. Elnora had no idea how a 13-year-old from the coal district could have possibly managed a 7.

Sea Jackson was obviously trying for the sweet and innocent angle, and she was playing the part quite well. Elnora almost believed that this girl was as sweet and charming as she appeared. Almost. She could see that, under her charming appearance, the girl was determined to survive and would go to any length to do so.

"So, Sea, as we all know, you scored an impressive 7 in training. How did you manage it?" Bernard asked, after Sea had finished telling him about how she had accidentally drunk milk with her cranberry sauce at lunch during the second training day.

"Honestly, I was just as surprised as everyone else was when I saw my score. I just kind of walked around to different stations during the evaluations. I guess I can hide pretty well. So, I was super excited to get such a high one," Sea answered, smiling and shrugging.

"Well, I hope that serves you well in the Arena," Bernard said. A buzzer sounded, and Sea rose to her feet, waving and smiling as she returned to her former seat. Elnora frowned. Why did this year's tributes have to be so _difficult_ to figure out? The girl had sounded convincing enough when she had spoken about her training score, but Elnora had a hard time believing that she could get a 7 just by hiding. If that was true, then the little Cherry girl from 11 would have scored higher than a 6. So, how in Panem had Sea done it? If Elnora didn't know, then sponsoring the girl would be a gamble. It was a gamble she just wasn't prepared to take. If she wanted to win this year, then she couldn't afford to take any risks.

* * *

Thankfully, the last tribute, Elijah Enstrom from 12, wasn't even on her watch list, so Elnora could use the couple of minutes during his interview to choose her tribute. It was crunch time. Tomorrow, they would be chucked into the Arena, and half of them would probably die. Elnora had to make sure that her tribute wasn't one of them.

Jayce or Desmond? It was a hard choice. And her life, liberty, and future happiness depended on it. Both were strong, and both were capable. Jayce seemed to be a bit too trusting, and he seemed to be entirely too comfortable with Savannah, the girl from his district. Plus, he was most certainly part of the Career alliance. It would be all too easy for a tribute from 1 or 2 to stab him in the back. Desmond wasn't part of an alliance. He wouldn't stand that risk but, then again, no one would have his back. He was on his own. And he had made a _lot_ of enemies. As in all 23 of the other tributes. Promising that he would kill every one of them on sight probably hadn't been the smartest move.

Just as Elijah's buzzer sounded, Elnora felt a soft poke in the side- a welcome improvement from Darryl's previous sharp jabs. Darryl pointed wordlessly to one of the two names on Elnora's final list. Elnora smiled and nodded. Her choice was made.

* * *

_**A/N: I am SO sorry for the delay in posting this chapter! Life got in the way. But I can promise that the next chapter will be posted SOON- maybe tomorrow night, maybe on Friday. No later than that. **_

_**Now, about this chapter. 7000+ words? Jeez, this was long. I had fun writing it, though. I hope you liked it . As you can probably guess, the next chapter will have our tributes entering the Arena. So, I would like for you to tell me who your 5 favorite tributes are. Yes, you can vote for your own . This will affect who I kill off the fastest and who the Victor is. **_

_**Thank you all so much for being so patient with me and my crazy life **_

_**~ Lily**_


	19. Into the Arena

_A/N: This chapter is for Jenny (TheFirstMaraudette). Happy Birthday! :)_

* * *

**Hope- The 18****th**** Hunger Games**

* * *

Cecelia Dawning hadn't slept all night. She had never been able to get any rest on the eve of the Games. She could remember how she had felt, going into her own Games. The mystery of what the Arena would be, the question of how long the Career alliance would last, the agonizing fear that that night would be her last. All of this rolled together had created the worst night of her life. Even now, years later, the memory of it haunted her. It tortured her to know that this was exactly what Savannah and Jayce were going through now. At least one of them wouldn't live to tell the tale of it.

On her way to the kitchen for a cup of green tea near midnight, Cecelia had seen the two walking, hand-in-hand, down the hallway toward the terrace that overlooked the city and the celebrations that had surely been at full height. She hadn't followed. She hadn't wanted to intrude on what could easily be their last night together. Cecelia knew all too well how easily the Arena could rip away the faces of those we love.

But, much as she dreaded what the next few hours would bring, her clock ticked relentlessly on, its bright green numbers glowing brightly in the predawn light. Savannah's and Jayce's stylists would be waking them soon. Cecelia was thankful that, at least, she was spared the duty of sending them into the Arena. She knew that she just wouldn't have the strength of will not to break down in front of them. Savannah and Jayce might a few more minutes to sleep, but Cecelia decided that she might as well get up now, even though she wouldn't have to start signing up sponsors until an hour before Launch. Staying hidden under her covers wouldn't change the fact that 23 children were going to die. She owed it to Savannah and Jayce to try her very best to make sure that one of them lived.

With this thought in mind, Cecelia untangled herself from her comforter and rolled out of bed, heading straight for the kitchen. She would need a cup of hot, caffeinated tea to get herself through the day. She might have to resort to coffee for the night and following day. As a Career mentor, she wouldn't be able to get any sleep until the second night, for it was almost certain that her tributes would be hunting the weaker ones on the first.

Wishing for what felt like the thousandth time that she had a partner to help her mentor, Cecelia pressed her palm to the hot drinks machine in the kitchen and ordered it to make a cup of black tea. It would probably be the first of many she drank while poring over the papers of previous years' sponsors, looking up the names of District 4's most generous past supporters. With any luck, the Capitol citizens would be running each other over to put their names down to donate money, so Cecelia would have to know who to let through first, ahead of time.

After just over an hour of going through form after form, Cecelia was awake and she had a rather impressive list of names, topped, of course, by the old lady who had given the money for the antibiotics that had saved Cecelia's life in her own Games. Of course, she hadn't really needed to write down Phyllis Greenley's name. The woman's reputation for picking Victors was known throughout the Capitol. As was her generosity in making sure that her tribute won.

By the time Cecelia exited the kitchen, the sun was just barely visible, peeking up over the skyscrapers of the Capitol and signaling to her that it was time to get herself ready for the day. Cecelia had taken a bath the night before, so she decided to forego her usual morning shower, instead simply slipping out of her nightgown and donning a flowing blue floral sundress, sliding a dagger into a carefully concealed pocket in the fabric. After brushing her long black hair, Cecelia decided that she looked good enough. After all, it was the tributes who mattered, not her. Though, she had heard from Brett that his partner Kaleida had a mysterious talent for acquiring sponsors for their tributes. Apparently she always came back in the mornings during the Games with a big fat check.

After slipping on a pair of white flats, Cecelia walked down the empty hallway towards the elevator. The District 4 apartment was strangely quiet without Jayce's booming laugh. Cecelia wondered if she would ever hear it again. She had said goodbye to him and Savannah after dinner the night before, not wanting to have to wake them up in the morning to do so. Once again, Cecelia realized, she had made the mistake of getting too close to her tributes. Would she _ever_ learn? Perhaps the sights of Savannah's and Jayce's coffins would do the trick.

These images would soon become reality if she didn't get a move on. It was later than Cecelia realized; she had only half an hour to reach the square in the center of the Capitol where the initial betting began. She tapped impatiently on the closed doors of the elevator, waiting for the lift to arrive so she could get out of this wretched building. It held too many painful memories. At last, the golden doors slid open, revealing a room that was empty save for the mentor from 9, who glared at her. Honestly, when would the other mentors stop judging her? It wasn't as if only the Career victors were killers.

The ride down to the ground floor was painful, to say the least, and Cecelia was very relieved when the doors slid open yet again, allowing her to escape the penetrating stare of the other mentor. She hurried out of the elevator and through the revolving doors before stepping out into the bright sunlight of the street beyond. It was complete and utter chaos. People were running this way and that, comparing notes on the tributes, laughing drunkenly, and eating a plethora of foods obviously left over from the night's celebration. Cecelia, as a Victor, was easily recognizable to most Capitol citizens. When they noticed her, there was a stampede to get close to her. This was where the dagger came in. Whipping it out, Cecelia smirked evilly, as though daring any one of them to come near her. Sure, they had seen her on TV as a charming Victor. But they had also seen her as a killer. And so they knew the damage that she could do with any weapon. Needless to say, the crowd parted like the Red Sea to let Cecelia through.

Her feet traced the now-familiar path to the main square, and she reached it quickly, for it was only a couple of blocks away from the Training Center. When she arrived, she saw that all of the other mentors except for the one from 9 were already sitting at tables up on the stage. A massive screen- even bigger than the one in the auditorium where the Opening Ceremonies and Interviews were held- was mounted above the stage. It currently showed the Capitol seal, but, once the Games started, it would show them live until they ended.

After making her way through the packed square, Cecelia climbed onto the stage and settled herself in the chair behind District 4's table. On top of it sat an enormous stack of papers, ready to be filled out by sponsors once the betting was allowed to begin. Glancing up at the massive clock that had been counting down to the start of the 18th Hunger Games since the end of the 17th, Cecelia saw that she had only a few minutes until she had to start signing up sponsors. The initial betting would last until exactly seven minutes before the start of the Games. After that, everything would pause while every single citizen of Panem watched the inevitable battle at the Cornucopia. The mentors would then linger for a few hours after the end of the Bloodbath to sign up secondary sponsors before heading to the Mentoring Headquarters for the rest of the Games. Any betting after the first day could be handled by the escorts.

A sixty-second countdown replaced the Capitol seal on the screen, signaling one minute until sponsoring could begin. The noise of the crowd below escalated, and Cecelia could see the citizens shoving each other to gain prime spots at the front of lines leading up to the stage. She was reminded strongly of how tributes from 1, 2, and her own district fought for the honor of going to their deaths. Idiots, the lot of them.

Cecelia laid down a few more pens and forms and then sat back, enjoying her last few moments of relaxation before the wave of people hit her, a deep voice counting down the seconds in the background. A buzzer sounded, and two women were off like bullets, shooting out of the crowd and dashing up the stairs to the stage like girls a quarter their age. One woman, the taller of the two, appeared to be gaining on the other in their mad race, infuriating the other.

"PHYLLIS!" The shorter of the two shouted, huffing and puffing with the exertion of climbing up onto the stage. The taller of the two, who must have been Phyllis Greenley, simply smirked and ran headlong to the District 2 table, a flood of people at her heels. The shorter woman glared at Phyllis's retreating back before hurrying to Cecelia's own table, also followed by an overwhelming number of Capitol citizens. The woman ran right up to Cecelia, using the table to stop herself, breathing heavily.

"Name?" Cecelia asked dryly. She really hated signing up sponsors. They disgusted her.

"Elnora Hansen," the woman replied, taking enormous breaths but still red in the face from both her mad sprint and her anger at Phyllis.

"Tribute?"

"Jayce Holaway."

"Amount?"

"Twice whatever Phyllis Greenley gives Natalia Elvin."

Cecelia was shocked. Phyllis was known for her generosity when it came to sponsoring tributes. She would give whatever it took for a tribute to win. "Well… thank you!" she said, not really knowing what else to say. Elnora seized a pen and hurriedly filled out a form, thrusting it into Cecelia's hands.

"Just call me if you need more. And make sure Jayce wins, will you?" Cecelia nodded, and the woman hurried away, glaring at Phyllis's back, which was still at the District 2 table.

Well… that had certainly been an interesting start to the day. The rest of the sponsors probably wouldn't be so exciting. Sighing, Cecelia resigned herself to a very long hour. Of course, it would be better than the Games themselves. At least she knew that Jayce and Savannah were alive and well while she was busy doing stupid paperwork.

* * *

"Cherry, wake up," Kim Say said, gently shaking the tiny figure that lay asleep, curled up in a ball and tangled up in sheets, as though the girl had been thrashing about in her sleep. She probably had been. Kim couldn't imagine what it must be like to know that you could be dead in the next 24 hours. And now it was her duty to take tributes to the edge of their deaths. Kim did a double take as she looked over the figure. Cherry's shocking red hair against the white pillow case made it look as though she had already bled to death. Now Kim knew what her friend Anastasia always saw when she looked at her tributes.

At a third gentle nudge, Cherry grumbled sleepily and rolled over away from Kim, not even opening her eyes. Sighing, Kim yanked the pillow out from under the girl's head, causing Cherry's eyes to fly wide open and fix her with a glare.

"What'd you do that for?" she grumbled, grabbing another pillow from the other end of the bed and flopping resolutely down upon it.

"It's morning. It's time to get up," Kim said, making a move to grab the second pillow, which Cherry swiftly dodged.

"It isn't morning! You can't even see the sun. Come back at noon," Cherry said, mumbling the last part into her pillow as she squirmed back into a more comfortable sleeping position.

"There's breakfast on the hovercraft. They've got fresh orange juice," Kim enticed, this time pulling the comforter off of Cherry's bed. But Cherry didn't mind.

"Orange juice? Okay, I'm coming. I can drink orange juice at night too," Cherry said, smiling and hopping out of bed. She started to head towards her dresser, but Kim stopped her.

"You'll get dressed in the Launch Room. We'll just go straight to the roof from here." Cherry nodded in agreement, following Kim out into the hallway. The stylist led the girl towards the elevator, pressing the 'UP' button and leaning against the wall, waiting for the box to arrive. It came quickly. District 12 had already boarded the craft, and Dante' and his stylist would follow soon after Kim and Cherry.

Cherry was uncharacteristically quiet as they ascended to the roof, and Kim couldn't help but think about just how _small_ she was as she stood next to her in her pink floral nightgown. If the Careers got hold of her… Kim couldn't stand to think of what they would do to the girl.

"This is the roof," Kim said as the elevator doors opened, revealing a concrete floor cloaked in mist from the frigid night air and the exhaust from the hovercraft that was parked on the Launchpad.

"It is? I thought it was President Snow's palace," Cherry said, rolling her eyes and then giggling.

"This might not be," Kim said, gesturing to the cold concrete roof before leading Cherry over to the very edge of the platform from which they could see the entire city. "But this is," she said, pointing to the sea of lights below. When Cherry caught up with the stylist and looked down at the city far below, she gasped. The dark silhouettes of countless buildings stretched in every direction, covered with tiny dots of light that outnumbered the stars that still shone above. The late-night revelers who still wandered the streets reminded Cherry of the fireflies that filled the orchards at night back in District 11 as the tiny figures wandered the streets, carrying sparklers. It was comforting to know that even here in the Capitol, an alien metal prison, there were reminders of home.

After the girl had spent several moments simply staring down at the city below, Cherry looked up and smiled. "Snow has a pretty cool house," she said.

Kim snorted with laughter and then beckoned Cherry back over toward the hovercraft. "Wouldn't want to intrude into His Highness's domain," she said. "It's time to go." Cherry nodded and followed Kim over to the silver ladder that hung down from the belly of the craft. She grasped the first rung and was instantly frozen by a current as she was lifted, along with the ladder, into the machine. Kim followed soon after her.

Once they were released from the ladders, the two were admitted into a painfully white room furnished with only two white armchairs and a single white coffee table which bore a tray of bagels and orange juice. Kim walked over and sank into one of the seats, but Cherry was kept immobile as a woman clad in a lab coat- also white- walked over to the girl, carrying a massive silver needle. "This is your tracker. Hold still while I put it in," the woman said in a monotone. Cherry yelped with pain as it penetrated her arm, and Kim flinched at the sound. Once again, the bright red of Cherry's hair contrasting with the white of the room had reminded her of blood, and she could only imagine what sort of pain Cherry would have to endure in the Arena.

After the woman in white had left, Cherry walked over to the other armchair, rubbing the spot where the tracker had been injected and grimacing. "Well, at least I won't be able to wander out of the Arena by mistake," she grumbled, sinking into her armchair and grabbing a bagel.

Kim snorted, laughing. "I guess not," she said. They sat for several minutes in silence, the only noise being the whirring of the hovercraft as it sped towards the Arena and Cherry's heavy breathing. "Cherry, do you need to talk?" Kim asked, her voice full of concern for the girl.

"It's just… I have to make it home. For my brother. I promised," Cherry said quietly, not looking up from the floor which she had been staring at for the last several minutes.

"Cherry, don't sell yourself short. You can do this. You know how Anastasia won, right?" Kim asked, smiling at the girl. Cherry shook her head. "She didn't fight. Right after the gong rang, she ran like the wind. Then she just hid out for the next few weeks. She wasn't even on the other tributes' radars, because her training score wasn't that high. By the time it got down to the final two, all she had to do was put the other poor boy out of his misery- he'd been slowly bleeding to death for days. You can do that, too. You can win!"

At this, Cherry looked up and smiled, back to her old cheery self. "Well, then everyone else had better watch out. I'll steal the crown out from right under their noses!" At this, Kim was struck by the image of Cherry sitting up in the trees, quietly munching on fruit while all of her competitors fought it out below, and she grinned too. Her little Cherry really _did_ stand a chance.

Just then, the noise of the hovercraft abruptly changed from a constant, low whirring to a loud rumble as it began his descent. The room had no windows, so the two had no idea what sort of terrain lay below. They just knew that they were dropping _fast_. With a loud _thump!_, the motion stopped, the change in momentum sending Cherry flying out of her seat, for she had failed to buckle herself in. After she had gotten up and rubbed her butt where she had landed, the girl stumbled back to the center of the room, where a dark gaping hole and another silver ladder had appeared. Kim grabbed the ladder, and Cherry followed suit. It quickly descended through what seemed to be a black cylindrical chamber, which was obviously meant to prevent either of them from catching any sight of the Arena. They were then lowered into a small, low-ceilinged room lit by fluorescent lights.

After the current released the two, Kim looked around the tiny Launch Room. Though Cherry would be the first and only tribute to use this one, it was exactly identical to every other Launch Room that Kim had ever been in. A pile of clothes was sitting in the corner, and Kim helped Cherry to dress in the undergarments, tank top, leggings, shorts, heavy wool pants, jacket, parka, wool socks, and fur boots.

"Wow, I feel like a polar bear or something," Cherry said, shocked at the weight of the heavy winter coat. "This stupid coat probably weighs twice what I do."

Kim grinned. "I'd say to expect it to be freezing, but it's funny. Back in the 10th Games, when it was just frozen tundra, they didn't bother with tank tops or anything- it was just long sleeve wool shirt after long sleeve wool shirt. I was still an apprentice then."

Cherry shrugged, apparently just as perplexed as her stylist. "How long do I have before I get to go visit Winter Wonderland?" she asked.

Kim glanced at her watch. "Ten minutes," she said. "In the meantime, can you eat anything?" There was a food and drink machine in the corner opposite the one where they had found Cherry's clothes. The silver ladder that had brought them into the room rested in a third corner, and the fourth contained the glass cylinder that would raise Cherry into the Arena.

Cherry shook her head. "But I wouldn't mind another glass of orange juice," she said. Kim quickly obliged, and the two sank into a comfortable silence, Cherry quietly sipping her juice and Kim staring absently at the glass cylinder.

"You'd better get ready," Kim said, after several minutes had passed. "Oh, and I almost forgot- here." She handed Cherry a silver ring on a chain- her token. "I had a chain put on it so you'll be sure not to lose it in the arena," Kim said, putting the necklace around the girl's neck and fastening the clasp. Cherry smiled as she grasped the ring, holding it so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

"Thank you," she said simply. A cold, deep, female voice crackled on over the loudspeaker, informing them that they had only thirty seconds until launch. Kim gave Cherry one last hug, and the girl walked over to the corner and stepped into the glass cylinder.

"Good luck," Kim said, giving the girl a reassuring smile and a thumbs-up.

"I'll make sure to kick some tribute butt for you," Cherry said, grinning back. At ten seconds to go, a glass wall slid down, closing Cherry off.

"Good luck, my little Cherry," Kim said, even though she knew that the girl couldn't hear her. "I know you can do it. You can come home."

* * *

Five minutes. Five minutes to go. Six, if you counted the extra minute in which the tributes were made to stand on their plates after they had entered the Arena. But there were only five minutes in which Cecelia Dawning _knew_ that Jayce and Savannah were safe. She felt sick.

Thankfully, all sponsoring had ceased a couple of minutes ago, which gave Cecelia a bit of time to compose herself before the Games truly began. All of the mentors had turned their chairs to face the enormous screen, which now bore the animated faces of Bernard Flickerman and Ambrosius Tax. Bernard Flickerman's Pre-Game Talk Show had replaced the Capitol Seal about half an hour ago. The two were now discussing the environments that past Arenas had held and how the tributes had coped with them. Cecelia gulped and glanced at her watch again.

One minute. One minute to go. _How_ had the time passed by so quickly? The world was spinning. She couldn't think straight. Cecelia grabbed the edges of her chair and shook her head. Hard. _She_ wasn't the one who was going into the Arena this time. She could get through this. She had to. For Jayce and Savannah.

At ten seconds to go, the screen shifted to showing simply black. Pure black. All-consuming black. The countdown continued. **"EIGHT." **Cecelia's palms were sweating. **"SEVEN."** She was gripping her chair for dear life. **"SIX." **Her knuckles were turning white. **"FIVE." **Her breaths were coming in ragged gasps. **"FOUR." **She could feel her heart pounding. **"THREE." **It was practically beating right out of her chest. **"TWO." **Her mind was racing. This wasn't real. This couldn't be happening. **"ONE." **And yet it was.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the 18th Annual Hunger Games begin!"

The screen then dissolved to reveal the Arena that all of Panem had waited so long to see. Cecelia gasped. _"What the hell?"_

* * *

_**A/N: Wow. I had SO much fun writing this chapter! I hope you all liked it. Especially my failed attempt at a cliffhanger at the end :). Thanks so much to all of my lovely reviewers! Happy Birthday Jenny .**_

_**~ Lily**_


	20. Bloodbath

**Hope- The 18****th**** Hunger Games**

"I must say that I'm impressed, Ambrosius," President Ezekiel Snow said to his Head Gamemaker. "Your design came together quite nicely."

Ambrosius Tax nodded his thanks and continued to stare at the enormous screen mounted on the wall in front of them. He _was_ quite proud of the Arena had created. It had taken hours of brainstorming, yes. He had even been forced to delve into the forbidden books of North America. But when he had come across the stories about a place called the "North Pole" and the fat oaf who lived there, he had known that that was it. He couldn't wait to see the tapes of the mentors' reactions to his latest and finest creation.

* * *

Jamee Lawrence stared, aghast, at the image on the screen before her as the camera panned around the circle of metal plates that the tributes now stood upon. The 24 children stood on a frozen mountaintop covered in snow and surrounded by a dense forest of pine trees. Jamee could see the beginning of a wooden bridge leading out over the icy valley. She wondered where it led. It would be a typical sort of Arena if it weren't for the thing at the center of the circle of metal plates. There was no Cornucopia! In its place was a gigantic red… thing. It kind of looked like some of the cars that she sometimes saw in the Capitol. It bore the label, "SANTA". What in Panem was a Santa?

This _Santa_, like a normal Cornucopia, was overflowing with gifts. Literally. Spilling out of the thing were hundreds upon hundreds of wrapped presents, sporting a variety of designs from chubby men in red suits, to reindeer with bright red noses, to pine trees that had been decorated with little colored balls for some reason. The tributes would have to rip open each box in order to arm themselves.

Just as Jamee thought that, she noticed that, in front of each tribute, was a small knife with a large red bow tied onto it. She wondered whether these were meant more for fighting or for box-opening. The tributes themselves looked every bit as shocked as Jamee was. Most were staring, wide-eyed, at the ersatz Cornucopia. The pouty girl from 6 was looking gleefully at the pile of presents overflowing from the _Santa_, totally oblivious to the fact that the vicious girl from 2, whose plate was right next to her own, was eyeing her with a sadistic smirk. A few of the smaller girls, whom Jamee recognized as the ones from 9, 10, and 11, were looking over their shoulders to the forest of pine trees that coated the rest of the mountain that the _Santa_ was situated on top of, apparently intending to run as soon as the gong rang. Two boys, the one from 9 and Jamee's own tribute Elijah, were staring at the long, rickety-looking wooden bridge that Jamee could now see led to another mountaintop where a small village of colorful huts was situated, obviously planning to make a beeline for it. The snow that coated the ground- just a few inches in the circle formed by the metal plates, but a couple of feet everywhere else- made the lights from the huts sparkle. They would be visible for miles.

Really, if Jamee didn't know that the snow would soon be dyed red with children's blood, the Arena would be beautiful. It was almost like a scene out of a child's legend- something out of a story that could be told on cold winters' nights. It was just sick to even contemplate turning it into a killing field. And yet, in exactly fourteen seconds, it would be. Jamee took a moment to cross her fingers, praying that Sea and Elijah would survive the next few minutes. She then took a deep breath, engraining this peaceful sight forever in her memory. Jamee smiled, happy for a moment.

But then the gong rang, and all hell broke loose.

* * *

Jamee's eyes were glued to her own tributes. She watched as little Sea leapt off her plate, grabbed her knife, and darted forward to grab a small, bright green present, narrowly dodging a dagger that went whizzing past her ear and eventually lodged itself in Piper Alexander's shoulder. Thankfully, Sea didn't glance back as she grabbed her prize and hightailed it out of the killing ground, disappearing into the heavy snow at the edge of the pine forest. _Good girl_, Jamee thought. Sea was safe.

Elijah didn't get off quite as cleanly as Sea had. He had started off with a mad dash towards the rickety wooden bridge, but his ally, Bradley Truell from 9, hadn't followed suit. Rather, the bigger boy had run straight toward the Cornucopia after picking up his knife to scoop up a few gifts. On the way out of the deadly circle, Bradley had sighted the willowy girl from 7, Nutmeg Clearwater, who had only just stepped off her plate to grab her knife. Bradley had then smirked and altered his course so that he had been able to tackle Nutmeg and knock her flat into the snow. But, just as the boy had raised his knife to finish the girl off, his face had turned as pale as the snow, which had quickly turned red with the boy's blood. Bradley had used his last strength to stab his own dagger straight through the girl's heart before collapsing into the snow beside her. The two then lay motionless in a growing pool of red.

Meanwhile, Elijah had been watching this, frozen with the shock of seeing his ally and another girl die before his eyes. It was only when the girl from 1 tried to throw a spear at him (and missed miserably) that he was able to move his feet. He ran like the wind, bolting across the bridge and out of sight. The panic, however, hadn't left his eyes. Jamee could see that he was already unhinging.

Once Jamee was sure that both of her tributes were still very much alive, her eyes darted back to watch the raging battle at the _Santa._ It was utter chaos, with the sound of children's agonized screams and the ringing clash of metal on metal ringing in Jamee's ears, creating the illusion of a horror movie that was all too real. The snow surrounding the pseudo-Cornucopia already colored red to match it.

The golden-haired girl from 2 was sitting on top of the _Santa_ with a set of knives in her lap, coolly throwing her blades into the chaos below. Tributes were everywhere, some frantically tearing open boxes, looking for weapons, some fighting tooth and nail for their very lives. Jamee watched as the monstrous boy from 2 struck down the poor little boy from 8 as the child begged for mercy. As an axe appeared in the gut of the other tribute from 8, its thrower, the boy from 7, disappearing into the trees. As one of Natalia's knives found its way straight into the heart of the boy from 3.

Jamee felt sick. She had just watched three innocent children die in a matter of seconds. Their bodies lay unmoving, crumpled in the snow, looking even more vulnerable in death than they had in life. Even the huge boy from 3 looked like a rag doll as he lay in the pool of blood surrounding him, Natalia's silver blade gleaming in the cheery sunlight that mocked the horror below.

A loud _boom!_ punctuated the din, making Jamee whip her head up just in time to see the enormous fireball that had been created by the blast. All of the fighting ceased as every soul in Panem watched the ashes from the explosion settle. Absolutely nothing was left of Vincent DeLoria's body. Desperate for a weapon he could use to defend himself, Vince had taken to ripping presents open at random. The last present that he had opened had contained the gift of death. It had exploded the moment that its wrapping paper had been ripped. Thanks to the snow, the explosion didn't set anything on fire. Just moments later, the only sign that anything out of the ordinary had happened was the thin layer of black dust that now coated the surface of the bloodstained snow.

As quickly as it had stopped, the fray resumed, more intense than ever. The children's screams flooded Jamee's ears, sending her back in time to where she herself had fought at the Cornucopia. She could still remember the feeling of the adrenaline pumping through her veins as she had fought for her life. The sight of the Careers brutally murdering _children_, revealing themselves to be inhuman beasts. The pain she had felt when she had seen the life leave the eyes of the little girl from 10. The stains that the girl's blood had left on her hands. She prayed, most likely in vain, that the Career tributes this year wouldn't turn into monsters. Not like what happened to all too many of their predecessors.

Jamee watched, horrorstruck, as Sparkle _cheered_ Jayce on as he advanced on the boy from 6. Suddenly, the Career lunged for Damion as the boy tried to run, catching the boy's neck and pulling him to the ground. Smiling grimly, Jayce whispered something into the boy's ear. He then drew his knife and slit Damion's throat. One more dead. Jayce stared, glassy-eyed, at the crumpled body at his feet, reminding Jamee yet again of how she had felt after her first kill. He then shook his head and straightened up, much like what Jamee had done when she had remembered her dying mother and the Capitol medicine that could have saved her.

When the boy looked up, his eyes lit on the furious battle that was taking place between Rosalie from 5 and the potato-boy from 11. Despite her size, Rosalie seemed to be holding her own, though she would soon tire, fighting Dante's sword with only her knife. The Careers from 1 and 2, meanwhile, were grouped around the _Santa_, apparently talking about their various kills, totally content to let their _ally_ fight for her life. But just as soon as Jayce took a step forward to help Rosalie, a shining silver blade appeared Dante's temple, sending the boy reeling backward into the snow. As Rosalie plunged her knife into Dante's chest, Jamee saw Savannah from 4 tuck her next throwing star back into her jacket.

And suddenly, everything was quiet. The clanging, the screams... they were things of the past. And yet it wasn't _silent_. With the sounds of battle gone, Jamee could hear a muffled sobbing coming from somewhere in the Arena. At the same moment Jamee noticed this, the Careers, who had been miming their first murders of the day, noticed the shaking form across the Arena from them. The pathetic girl from 6 had never even left her plate! She now sat, her knees tucked and her face buried in her fur coat, attempting to muffle her crying. At this sight, a sadistic grin spread across Natalia's face and she slid off of the _Santa_, landing, catlike.

"Well, well, well…" she said, beckoning for the rest of the Career pack to follow her towards Sierra. _Vultures_, Jamee thought. "What do we have here?" At this, Sierra raised her head, blind panic spreading across her features. She abandoned any attempt to conceal her sobs as she looked up at the Career who was now standing right over here.

"Now, we can't have that," Natalia simpered as Sierra's wails escalated in volume. "Why is the little baby crying?" Sierra's eyes widened, if possible, even more, and she tried desperately to scoot backwards away from Natalia. Smirking, Natalia motioned to the pack behind her to block the little girl's escape. None of them moved. At a death glare from the Career, Sparkle squeaked and hurried out of the group, drawing her knife and trotting over to Sierra's other side, closing off any opportunity that the little girl might have had to get away.

"Why are you sad, little girl? You should be _happy_ to be here! I'm going to do you a _favor. _After all, you said in your interview that you'd always wanted a Capitol makeover. I'm here to _help_. I'm going to make you _beautiful_,_" _Natalia said, her eyes glinting maliciously and her grin widening as she drew one of her knives. Sierra's already pale face turned white as the snow at the sight of the blade gleaming dangerously in the mouth moved, as if she were trying to say something, but no sound came out.

"Lovely," Natalia said, fingering her dagger lovingly. "Now, where should we start?"

"Natalia, no!" Savannah said forcefully, stepping forward out of the pack and getting in between Natalia and the little girl from 6, glaring downward at the smaller Career.

"What?" Natalia asked innocently, looking up at Savannah through her golden lashes and _almost_ pulling the act off. "As I said, I'm doing this girl a _favor._"

Savannah didn't buy it. "Look, if you're going to kill the girl, just do it. Don't torture her. She doesn't deserve it."

Natalia dropped the 'innocent' façade immediately. "It's not your business what I do, District 4," she spat. "You're just mad that the little girl's mine. I kill her my way. You interfere, I kill you both."

Savannah looked ready to retort, but Rosalie cut in. "Nate, I think Savannah's right. We should keep the girl alive." At these words, Natalia looked murderous, but Rosalie continued all the same. "Remember what happened to Vin- I mean, the boy from 5?" Rosalie's eyes had filled with tears at the sound of the boy's name. "That present he opened blew him to bits. We can keep the little girl and make her open all of the gifts still at the Cornucopia for us. When she's done, if she's not ashes by then, we can kill her."

Natalia nodded curtly and sheathed her knife, and Savannah smiled, holding her hand out to help Sierra up. The doughy girl from 6 cautiously took the Career's hand, her eyes still swimming with tears but her sobs much more controlled.

"So… so… you're not… you're not gonna kill me?" Sierra choked as she took Savannah's hand. The Career shook her head and smiled, pulling the younger girl to her feet.

"Nope. You're going to come with us," Savannah said. Natalia rolled her eyes.

"Come on, let's go. We need to get out of here so they can get the bodies," Jayce said. "We can go check out what's in those huts across the bridge. The stuff should be safe. I mean, we should be able to see a tribute standing on top of a white mountaintop pretty easily."

Rosalie nodded in agreement. "Besides, if anyone's dumb enough to come near our camp, we'll be able to see their footprints in the snow and track them down later."

"There's a set of footprints going to the base of the bridge!" Savannah pointed out, gesturing to the tracks in the snow. The rest of the pack followed her lead toward the structure, weapons in hand.

"Omigosh, I can't believe that we're, like, going on a tribute hunt!" Sparkle exclaimed. It would be a close race between her and Sierra for the Most Annoying award.

* * *

Once the Careers had disappeared over the bridge- the camera would shift to show their progress in a few minutes- Jamee was free to survey the wreckage of the Battle of the Santa. Gone was the picturesque scene of just minutes before. In its place was a devastated battlefield littered with scraps of wrapping paper, discarded weapons, and clumps of bloodstained snow. Eight bodies and one pile of ash lay unmoving in pools of red. As the camera panned around the circle of metal plates, the cannons started to fire. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Eight cannons. But wait… that meant… There were _eight_ bodies _and_ one pile of ash. Had Vince's cannon already fired? Or… was one of the bodies actually _alive?_

After the sound of the cannons had died away, Jamee's question was answered. Piper Alexander's figure moved. It was only slight, but Jamee knew that she saw the girl lift her head just a touch, checking to see if it was safe to move. Ever since she had been hit by Natalia's knife in the first few seconds of the battle, Piper had been playing dead. With her naturally pale complexion and the snow that soaked up blood, it must have been easy to convince the Careers that she had died from blood loss.

As it was, Piper was even more weak than she normally was, so it took great effort for her to drag herself to her knees. From that position, she sat up and grabbed a long piece of wrapping paper, using it as a rough bandage for her wound. Once she had stopped the bleeding, she scooped up a box that had already been unwrapped and clearly contained a meager supply of food. Piper then slipped her knife into the box and crawled over to an enormous set of tracks that must have belonged to Tasi Merkava. They led straight into the woods. Standing up and stepping carefully into each humungous footprint, Piper made her way into the forest of pine trees, soon disappearing from sight. Until the recap of the deaths that night, it would appear to the Careers that her body had been taken away with the rest of the Bloodbath victims'. This fact would give her time to hide. The precious time that might save her life.

Now that Piper had left, the hovercrafts finally came to collect the bodies. What was left of eight children's bodies would be shipped to their homes that night. Claude Astrovsky, Vincent DeLoria, Damion Wells, Nutmeg Clearwater, Andy Perez, Spencer Fields, Bradley Truell, and Dante' Scott would never see their families again. It was tragic, really. But one thought made Jamee smile despite the atrocity. There were eight less children standing in the way of Sea and Elijah.

* * *

_**A/N: Oh my gosh… I understand if you hate me right now. I had this chapter written more than a week ago, but then my internet broke. Having no wifi is torture. By the time the Comcast guys got it fixed, I had already left on my church trip. With no laptop. Then, after the church trip, my 17-year-old brother had to drive us to our grandma's house. Guess what? She doesn't have wifi either. But, now that I'm home, I have both a laptop AND wifi so I can finally post this stupid chapter. So sorry for the delay! And right after my cliffhanger, too… Gosh, I am awful.**_

_**Anyways, I hope that you liked this chapter. I hope I did an OK job explaining the Arena. Yes, the SANTA is Santa's sleigh. And yes, I am VERY fond of Santa . I just figured that a bit of Santa-bashing would be in character for Ambrosius. So originally I was going to kill different people, but I hoped this worked out OK for everybody. Leaving certain people alive makes the plot much more interesting. **_

_**I'll start the next chapter tomorrow, but it probably won't be finished until Wednesday. Again, I'm so sorry for the delay in posting this!**_

_**Now, OFF TO BED! :D**_

_**~ Lily**_


	21. Of Christmas Presents and Cliff Diving

**Hope- The 18****th**** Hunger Games**

* * *

"Well, this is certainly shaping up to be an exciting Hunger Games!" Bernard Flickerman exclaimed, grinning while sitting next to a stoic Ambrosius Tax. The Head Gamemaker nodded in agreement. "I mean, what a first few minutes! _Eight_ eliminated before lunchtime! I don't think we've had that kind of toll from the first battle since the 13th Games."

Ambrosius nodded. "Yes, it was nine in the 13th. But now, of course, the Games will slow down a bit. All of the tributes will be scattered throughout the Arena. We can only expect sporadic encounters from now on."

"I suppose that's true," Bernard conceded. "But most of the tributes aren't alone. On that note, talk about the mega-alliance this year! I don't think I've e_ver_ seen eight tributes band together before."

"I can't say I have, either, Bernard," Ambrosius agreed. "Though we have noticed a traditional alliance of the tributes from 1, 2, and 4, the addition of the girls from 5 and 6 is quite unusual."

"Yes, speaking of the addition of the girl from 6, who would have guessed that the girl receiving the first zero in Hunger Games history would end up joining the pack of the strongest tributes in the Arena?" Bernard said.

Ambrosius shrugged. "The Arena is always full of surprises," he said cryptically.

Bernard grinned. "Yes, the Arena! I don't think that anyone was disappointed with the design this year! Tell me, what was your inspiration for it?"

"Well, I was quite starved for ideas after 17 years, so-"

Hayffie Marsuul sighed and turned the television off. This was ridiculous. She wanted to know what was happening to Piper, dammit! But no, all the networks would air was Bernard Flickerman's talk show and shots of the Career pack hunting through the colorful huts on the other side of the bridge, punctuated by the occasional showing of the boy from 7 hiking through the pine forest. Didn't _anyone_ care to see what was happening to the girl from 3 who had been smart enough to escape the Bloodbath right under the Careers' noses?

But that was exactly the problem. Piper had received a grand total of two sponsors, one of whom was so drunk that he couldn't even remember his own name, and the other who was wondering if she would be able to send her cat, Mr. Mittens, into the Arena to keep Piper company. Seriously. _Why_ couldn't anyone see that Piper was smart enough to survive?

Claude, on the other hand, had received plenty of sponsors. This was probably just based on his size but, of course, Hayffie hadn't been complaining when she had been signing people up just hours before. When Claude had still been alive.

There were no words to describe how Hayffie had felt when she had seen that dagger pierce Claude's heart. The stabbing sensation in her own chest when she had seen Claude fall, his lifeblood pouring out, staining the snow around him. She had known that she would never see him again the moment that the demon from 2 had set her sights on him. Hayffie had experienced that same feeling just minutes before that when she had seen Piper crumple to the ground, Natalia's first knife embedded her shoulder. When the girl hadn't gotten back up, Hayffie had felt her gut sink. She hadn't been able to believe that Piper, sweet, loveable Piper, was _dead_. Gone. Forever. And so, after the Careers had left, when Piper had gotten back up… Hayffie's smile had been wider than the great Capitol stadium. She _knew_ that Piper could do it!

But the clip of Piper staggering off into the forest had been the last thing that Hayffie had seen of the girl. For all the stylist knew, Piper could have been killed by the boy from 7. Mauled by mutts. Fallen off a cliff. Poisoned. Anything! So Hayffie did the only thing she could do. She repeated her late mother's favorite phrase to herself. "No news is good news," she said.

"… I hope."

* * *

"Ana, she's alive!" Kim Say exclaimed, running into the Mentors' headquarters and engulfing her best friend in a bear hug.

"Yes. She is," Anastasia said, smiling, her eyes reflecting her joy at the fact that little Cherry had survived the Bloodbath. This news provided happiness enough to prevent her dwelling on Dante's death.

"How is she doing?" Kim asked, walking over to one of the couches in District 11's Arena Observation Room and flopping down on it. She had only just arrived there, for she had stayed in the Capitol's main square for several hours after Anastasia had left, signing up a few post- Bloodbath sponsors for Cherry.

"She's been walking through the trees for a few hours with the girls from 9 and 10," Anastasia said, sitting down next to Kim and fixing her gaze on the screen showing District 11's female tribute. Situated around the room were screens showing each tribute still alive along with one enormous screen depicting whatever the rest of Panem was seeing at the moment. "It's about time they stopped, though."

Just as Anastasia said this, Leila Vaniel from 9 brought up this very point on the screen. "Hey, do you want to stop soon?" she asked. "I think we're far enough away from the Cornucopia."

"Wait, you want to stop? I could go on for _days _like this! After all, a foot of snow is just _so_ easy to walk through when you're a shrimp," Cherry said, rolling her eyes and then grinning. "Yeah, I think it's a good idea. We can see what's in that box of yours."

"Personally, I'm in favor of edibles," Gray said, clearing a space beside of one the numerous pine trees, scraping away most of the snow and then sitting down. The other two girls followed suit.

"Yeah, I know, I really wish I would've eaten more for breakfast," Leila grumbled. "Hey, do either of you have a knife? I lost mine fighting the girl from 8 when I went in for this box." Gray and Cherry both nodded, and the girl from 11 handed Leila the dagger, its bright red ribbon still attached.

"Didn't have to use it," Cherry said, shrugging at Gray's questioning look. Leila took the knife, tossing the ribbon aside, and ripped the reindeer wrapping paper, uncovering a cardboard box. She then cut the box open, revealing a stuffed animal horse.

"What the hell?" Cherry asked, aghast.

"Are you _serious?_" Leila exclaimed, outraged, tossing the toy to the ground. "I risked my life for a _stuffed horse_?" Cherry nodded in agreement, but Gray's eyes had just opened in realization. She leaned in to whisper to the other girls so that the cameras couldn't pick up her words.

"Wow, a stuffed horse!" Gray said once she had looked up, a delighted smile on her face as she picked the plush animal out of the snow. "Thanks, Mr. Tax! It's just what I've always wanted! He looks like one of the ponies at the ranch I work at. I think I'll name him Ambrosius." Cherry and Leila had both been trying to stifle their giggles but, upon hearing the horse's new name, they burst into laughter and gave Gray high-fives. Gray then tied the discarded red ribbon around the horse's neck, grinning too. "Pretty awesome Hunger Games present," she declared.

As their laughter died down, the girls' mood soon grew serious. "So, what are we going to do about food?" Cherry asked. "We can't exactly eat Ambrosius."

"Well, we've got plenty of water," Leila said, gesturing to the snow surrounding them. "And I remember from the plants station back in training that pine bark is edible. That should hold us over for a few days at least. And maybe we can steal supplies from the Career camp if they don't leave a guard. We could probably take one out from behind if we had to."

"Or we could just be sneaky," Cherry said, who had blanched at Leila's suggestion of killing another tribute.

"That works, too," Leila said. "Hey, d'ya want to keep moving? The Careers can move faster than we can and we don't know which way they went after the Bloodbath." The other two girls nodded their assent and got to their feet, Gray tucking Ambrosius under her arm and Cherry putting the wrapping paper scraps into the cardboard box and picking it up.

"Kay, let's go," Gray said.

* * *

"They'll probably keep going until the death recap," Kim said, leaning back and putting her arms behind her head, stretching.

Anastasia nodded in agreement. "So all we have to worry about is all of the different things that could kill them in there. We don't have to worry about the Career pack- I saw them go across the bridge to the little village thing- but there's the boy from 7. He didn't have any trouble killing the little girl from 8, and he's got a few more axes."

"Yeah, he could be a problem," Kim said. "I'd forgotten about him. C'mon, let's see where he is," she suggested, walking over to another screen and flopping down on a couch nearer to it than the one she had just vacated. Anastasia followed.

This screen showed Desmond Chordus hiking through the woods, several boxes tied together with ribbon and strapped to his back to make a makeshift backpack. He was moving quickly and purposefully, one of his axes drawn for protection. He appeared to be unscathed from the battle at the Cornucopia.

"Well, he looks well supplied," Anastasia sad resignedly.

"Not necessarily. Remember what was in Leila's box?" Kim pointed out.

Anastasia smiled. "How could I forget? Explosives, stuffed horses… what could be next? I wouldn't be surprised if they put Tracker Jackers in one." Right after she said this, her face paled when she realized that this was a definite possibility.

"Well, I think we can assume that at least some of the boy's stuff will be useful, so he's probably stocked for a week out in the woods, maybe more," Kim said, not mentioning Anastasia's all-too-true previous comment. Anastasia nodded. "So I guess that's the bad news. The good news," Kim continued, "Is that you can see on the map here that he's headed northwest down the mountain. The girls headed due south from the Cornucopia. The huts are more northeast, so Cherry is far, far away from both the Careers and the axe-boy." As she said this, Kim had been gesturing to the map of the arena situated on the coffee table at the center of the room, each tribute represented by a little colored blinking dot.

"I know, I saw," Anastasia said, smiling. "I just hope that it stays that way."

* * *

Sea was alive and doing well. Jamee had been watching the little girl hike through the woods, heading down into the valley between the two mountaintops sporting the Cornucopia and the colorful village where Elijah was hiding out, respectively. She had stopped for a brief rest about half an hour before, opening her box with the knife she had retained from the Cornucopia and discovering a massive bar of chocolate inside. Jamee's first reaction had been anger upon seeing the contents of the gift. What did the Gamemakers think they were playing at? But then she had realized just how valuable chocolate really was. It was made of sugar and carbs- just the things that Sea would need to survive in the Arena.

Sensibly, Sea had stowed the bar of chocolate and wrapping paper scraps back in the cardboard box before ploughing on, apparently intending to put as much distance as possible between herself and the Careers. Little did she know just how close to the danger she really was. Mind, Elijah was in far greater peril than Sea, but he could also defend himself better, and he could run, if need be. Sea, though a now-deadly archer, didn't have a bow. If she wanted to get one, she would have to trek all the way back to the Cornucopia and try to steal one from the Careers- a pack now eight tributes strong. Needless to say, it would be a daunting prospect for a 13-year-old girl from District 12 armed with nothing but a knife, chocolate, and pure wits.

For now at least, Sea was relatively safe, as there was a fairly long, steep descent from the huts into the valley where the girl was now setting up camp in a tree. Elijah, however, was now hiding out inside one of the huts in the little village on the second mountaintop. How _stupid_ could the boy be? Didn't he know that the Careers would go for the easy targets first? He would be a sitting duck. And the Careers were drawing ever closer to the hut where Elijah now sat, curled up on a cushion under a table in a corner and totally relaxed. Apparently totally aware to the danger that would soon be knocking on his door.

* * *

Cecelia Dawning was worried. Sure, Savannah and Jayce had survived the Bloodbath, but that was the easy part. Being a Career came with its advantages. You knew how to use weapons. You knew how to get through the first battle unscathed. You knew how to kill. But you were also part of the Career pack.

Of course, there was safety in numbers, so Careers almost never got killed by anyone but their allies. It was in Savannah's and Jayce's allies where the danger lay. This year, the Career pack was eight tributes strong- the largest it had ever been in Hunger Games history. That meant that there were only eight non-Career tributes left in the Arena, and they could be killed quickly and easily. The boy from 7 and the giant from 10 might pose small problems, but neither of them would be able to escape when outnumbered eight to one, even if the sniveling girl from 6 _was_ totally useless.

It was funny how the weakest tribute in the Arena could prove to be the undoing of some of the strongest. Savannah had told Cecelia about the tension between the tributes from 1 and 2 and the rest of the pack. Cecelia feared that this tension could come to a head all too soon. Perhaps over the issue of the continued survival of the little girl. Natalia clearly hadn't been joking earlier that day when she had threatened to kill Savannah.

At the moment, all eight tributes of the Career pack were digging around inside the second hut they had inspected, looking for anything that could be useful as well as the tribute whose tracks they had seen earlier. He had done a good job erasing his footprints after crossing the bridge, so the Careers would have to scour every hut for the boy's hiding place. The one-room building they were searching at the moment was chock-full of little wooden men with white beards, red suits, blue hats, and sticks jutting out from their backs. Cecelia wondered what they were for.

"Found anything?" Rosalie called to the rest of the group from her position in one corner, rifling through a cardboard box full of more of the wooden men.

"Nope!" Sparkle answered, sitting back on her legs and pausing to fix her hair. "All I can see are these stupid doll things. Natalia, can we move on? This place is boring, and it's so _ugly_. The orange on the walls is hideous, don't you think?"

The smallest Career extracted herself from another box she had been digging around in and nodded. "Yeah, I think we should leave. We won't find anything here," Natalia said.

"Cool!" Sparkle said, getting to her feet and reaching for her parka. The room was heated, so all of the tributes had shed their coats. "Can we go to the one with the pretty yellow roof a few huts down?"

"Yeah, good idea! I saw that one! It was so pretty!" Sierra exclaimed, standing up from the corner she had banished to when Sef had declared that he couldn't stand another moment of her whining.

"We'll work our way over," Natalia said firmly. "That way, we can be absolutely sure that we don't miss a hut."

"But it's so ugly! Its roof is red. I _hate_ red. Why can't we go to the yellow one?" Sierra protested, her voice grating and quite painful for Cecelia to hear. She could only imagine what it would be like in person.

"Listen, closely little girl. You don't like red? Too bad. I can make the snow _bright _red real soon if you don't shut up. You don't speak unless spoken to. If you do, I'll make everyone's life easier and just kill you. Clear?"

"Y-yes," Sierra said, stepping back into the safety of her corner, eyes widening in fear. Natalia nodded, satisfied, and sheathed the knife she had drawn. The tiny Career then donned her own coat and led the way out of the hut and into the frigid air. She hurried across the open space between the hut she had come from and the one with the red roof, slipping quickly inside to the next house, the other seven following closely behind her.

Once all eight tributes were out of the cold, the camera shifted to show the interior of the hut. Contrast to the warehouse-like space of the previous building, this room was furnished almost like an ordinary Capitol living room. It had a couple of couches, two coffee tables, one of which was sporting a plate of cookies and a glass of milk, and a fireplace with several rather large socks hanging above it. As well as a boy who was sitting under one of the tables in a corner, curled up on top of a couch cushion.

At the sight of Elijah, cornered and completely vulnerable, Natalia smiled. "Look what we have here," she said, stepping forward so that she and her dagger would be in full view of Elijah. This had the double effect of releasing the rest of the tributes from the entranceway where they had been trapped. They formed a semicircle with Natalia at the center, blocking Elijah's escape through the only door in the room.

When Elijah had seen the Careers, he had visibly paled, but he now replied in a friendly tone. "Hi there! Eight people have come all this way just to visit me? Here, have some cookies," he said cheerily, gesturing to the plate of chocolate chip cookies sitting on one of the coffee tables. "And help yourself to the rest of the milk, too."

"Oh, we'll be glad to," Natalia said, copying Elijah's falsely friendly tone. "It'll save us the trouble of finding refreshments for your funeral."

"Natalia-" Savannah interjected, trying to defend the boy.

Natalia cut her off. "Shut it, District 4. We kept the girl. We don't need the weight of another pathetic excuse for a tribute. If the girl dies opening the gifts, we'll just use you next." At this, Savannah glared at the smaller girl, but she said nothing. "Tell me, boy," Natalia said, turning back to Elijah. "Can you give me one single reason why your life is worth continuing?" Elijah remained silent and still. He was tensing up. "You're pathetic, District 12," Natalia sneered. "Well, at least no one in your pathetic little District will miss you when I kill you."

Natalia drew back her silver knife, aiming it straight for Elijah's heart. And then the boy moved. Snatching up the cushion he had been sitting on, Elijah used it as a shield, holding it up in front of himself. The blade embedded itself in the cushion almost the instant Elijah had raised it. He then yanked the knife free and smashed it through the window situated just above the coffee table he had been sitting under. Shards of glass flew in every direction, causing the Careers to naturally duck away, shielding their faces, giving Elijah the time he needed to climb up on top of the table and leap through the window, cutting his arms on the shards of glass still left on the frame. Natalia let forth an animal cry of rage when she saw that Elijah had escaped, and she leapt through the window after him, drawing another knife. Elijah was running headlong towards the edge of the flat top of the mountain. Natalia smirked. He had nowhere to run. She threw another knife at Elijah's retreating back. The blade embedded itself in the boy's calf, just where Natalia had aimed it, causing the boy to stumble and collapse to the ground. Smiling evilly, the Career began to walk slowly towards the boy, drawing yet another knife. But Elijah didn't simply wait for death. Grimacing, he yanked the blade out of his leg and limped away from the girl, heading ever closer to the steep descent. When he glanced back and saw the Career advancing on him, he did the only thing he could do. He jumped.

* * *

_**A/N: The first real Arena chapter! We've waited so long to finally get to this point. I hope this lived up to your expectations! I actually have the plot planned out for next chapter, so I should be able to write that pretty quickly. Thanks so much to all of my lovely reviewers :)**_

_**~ Lily**_

_**P.S.- Is everyone getting the little references to the Christmas legends? The little dolls were Nutcrackers, and the house Elijah was in was like one on Christmas Eve :). **_

_**P.P.S.- Can anyone think of a good title for this chapter? I'm**_**awful** **_at coming up with titles in any shape or form. _**

**_P.P.P.S. (I know, this is getting ridiculous...)- I've posted a poll on my profile where you can vote for who you think the Victor should be. Please feel free to vote :)_**


	22. Chapter 22

_**Hope- The 18**__**th**__** Hunger Games**_

* * *

Sea Jackson hiked along the narrow gully, dragging herself through a foot and a half of snow and wondering just how long she had been traveling. She wasn't entirely sure _where_ she was going, but at least she was going somewhere. Hopefully somewhere far, _far_ away from the Careers.

The Bloodbath had been a blur. She could remember the adrenaline surging through her veins as she had run in for a box, scooped it up, and fled the battle, sprinting into the woods. She had then run for her life- _literally_- until she hadn't physically been able to go any further and had collapsed into the snow. After breathing heavily for several minutes, she had come back to reality. Miraculously, she had survived the Bloodbath. She was still alive. Once she had gotten back to her feet, she had simply picked a direction and started walking. Going downhill had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, Sea cursed herself for the decision. Anyone looking down into the valley where she was now could see her, and she had nowhere to run. Running uphill would be a _lot_ harder than walking downhill.

As she walked, it almost felt like the steep hills on either side of her were swallowing her. Like she would never leave their confines. At least, not while she was still alive. Sea shook her head to rid herself of those thoughts. She had no idea where any of the other tributes were. They could easily be on the complete opposite end of the Arena! After all, she hadn't seen a living creature in hours. But wait a minute… What was _that?_ Sea stopped and looked up. At the top of the small mountain looming in front of her, the snow was sparkling, dancing with light. She knew exactly where she was. And it wasn't good.

Sea stared up the steep incline. Just over the horizon, she knew, lay the small village of colorful houses that had stood just across the bridge from the Cornucopia. She had been traveling in a giant circle this whole time. So much for her hope of being far away from the Careers. There were almost certainly tributes in the huts, for the buildings were probably stocked with supplies. It would be a logical place for the Careers to set up camp. The only thing that separated Sea from where the most deadly tributes in the Arena probably were was a hill. There was around a 20 foot vertical drop from the summit before the ground began to slope, but a very careful person could probably make it down unharmed.

An animal cry of rage broke Sea's thoughts. There had to be a mutt on the summit! A pounding of footsteps reached the girl's ears- the mutt was hot on a tribute's tail. Sea's heart pounded. If the mutt came down into the valley, there was no way she could escape. She made a split second decision. And leapt into a pine tree, concealing herself among its branches. Maybe the mutt, whatever it was, couldn't climb. Another cry reached Sea's ears, but this was one of pain, and it was most definitely human. The mutt must have caught the tribute. So why hadn't a cannon fired? Was the tribute still alive?

Sea's question was soon answered. She heard another cry- of fear this time- but now, she could see its source. A boy was falling, plummeting, spread-eagled, yelling his head off. He was going to crash, Sea could see. She was going to watch someone die. And there was nothing she could do, for some sixth sense told her not to leave her hiding place. Trying in vain to save someone wasn't worth dying for.

It was a good thing she stayed put for, just moments before the boy, who Sea now recognized as Elijah, her district partner, landed, the furious face of the girl from 2 appeared over the edge of the ridge. "I hope you're happy, District 12! Have fun dying." Natalia spat. Sea shuddered. She had a sinking feeling in her gut that Natalia, without realizing, hadn't been talking to just Elijah. The prospect of facing the tiny Career was probably even more daunting than imagining an encounter with the mutt Sea had mistaken Natalia for.

Sea was forced to watch, unable to intervene, as Elijah hit the ground with a sickening crash. He'd had the presence of mind to tuck himself and roll to break his fall as he landed but still, from that height… it wasn't likely that he'd survived. Natalia's gloating face disappeared from over the ridge- she probably assumed that the noise of Elijah's landing had masked the sound of his cannon firing- but still, Sea forced herself to wait several moments before rushing out to Elijah, whose limp body had just stopped rolling at the base of the incline.

Once she was sure that Natalia had gone, Sea slid out of her pine tree and ran over to Elijah's crumpled form. There was a trickle of blood running out of the boy's mouth, and Sea was pretty sure that his limbs weren't supposed to be pointing in the directions they were. His eyes were glassy, but Sea could feel a faint pulse in his wrist. It was very faint and fluttery, but it was there. Miraculously, Elijah was alive.

So… now what? Sea knew absolutely zilch about healing, though her mother had given her plenty of combat training. But even so, she could tell that it was likely Elijah wouldn't make it, even if she had Capitol medicine on her side. She just so happened to be sitting in the middle of a snow-covered valley with nothing but a bar of chocolate. There wasn't much she could do, even if she did know an ounce about medicine. But she couldn't just leave him… _could she? _

_No,_ Sea told herself. Leaving Elijah to die a long, probably agonizing death would be just wrong. And if the Careers found him once they realized he was still barely alive… well, Sea really didn't want to know what Natalia would do to Elijah. Sea was suddenly reminded of something her mother had said to her many years ago when they had found a mockingjay chick that had broken its wings in a fall from its nest.

_"Sometimes, Sea, it's just better to let things go," _her mother had said, fetching a kitchen knife from one of the drawers. _"We should put him out of his misery."_ Sea now knew exactly what she had to do. Drawing her dagger, she took one last glance at Elijah's unconscious form.

"I'm sorry, Elijah," Sea whispered to him, though she knew that the boy couldn't hear her. Then, taking a deep breath, she plunged the knife straight into the boy's heart. A cannon went off with an earsplitting, _**BOOM!**_

Sea jumped. She'd totally forgotten about the cannon. She sprinted into the trees, praying that the Careers would assume that Elijah had died from the fall, not at the hands of another tribute. Sea waited for several heart-stopping, agonizing minutes. Not a soul appeared. Relatively safe in her assumption that no bloodthirsty Careers were on her tail, Sea extracted herself from her hiding spot and hurried along the valley, _away_ from the Careers this time.

* * *

"Omigosh, Natalia, you totally showed that loser from 12 what the Careers are, like, all about!" Sparkle exclaimed as Natalia made her way back to the huts, smirking. Jayce rolled his eyes. They hadn't even been in the Arena for a full day and already he had lost count of the number of times he'd been tempted to strangle the ditzy girl from 1.

"Too bad the bastard didn't suffer longer," Natalia muttered, her eyes still full of bloodlust. Jayce exchanged a glance with his District partner, Savannah. It was clear that she was as horrified as he was at Natalia's fondness for causing pain. It was like she craved it.

"So, what do we do now?" Sef asked, voicing the question that they were all probably internally asking.

"Well, I think that we should go back to the Cornucopia and sort through some of the stuff there. After the first two huts, I think we can be pretty sure that we won't find anything good here," Rosalie said, earning nods of agreement from the children surrounding her.

"Present opening!" Sierra squealed, leaping to her feet excitedly. She was met with baleful stares from most of the other tributes and a furious glare from Natalia.

"What did I tell you about talking?" she hissed, whipping out her favorite dagger.

"Oh, lighten up, Nate," Jayce said, patting her on the back and, in effect, pounding the tiny girl into the snow. Natalia shifted her glare to the boy from 4. Jayce shot her a cocky grin.

"Don't tempt me, District 4," Natalia said, her voice brimming with rage, her dagger clutched tightly in her right hand. "Unfortunately for you, _you_ aren't necessary in this alliance. I won't hesitate to kill you." Jayce was about to retort, but he kept his mouth shut at a warning look from Savannah. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, the seven Careers got to their feet- Sierra, of course, was already standing- and they began to follow Natalia across the rickety bridge that led back to the Cornucopia.

Jayce walked slowly so he could join Savannah at the back of the pack, out of Natalia's earshot. "She's crazy," he said out of the corner of his mouth, gesturing to the tiny Career who was now stepping on to the first plank of the bridge.

"Yeah, I know," Savannah whispered back. "Cecelia told me that she killed her own mother in her visitation room. I wouldn't trust that girl farther than Sierra could throw her."

At this last comment, Jayce snorted, but he grew serious again quickly. "Are you serious? I mean, I knew she was psycho, but not _that_ crazy." Savannah nodded wordlessly. "So what do we do?" Jayce asked. "We can't exactly stick around with a bloodthirsty nutter."

"We'll just have to leave," Savannah said resignedly.

"Tonight?" Jayce asked, surprised.

"I think we can wait a couple of days," Savannah said. "We've got the safety in numbers- I don't think anyone would be dumb enough to attack a group of 8- and it'll be easier to take out some of the weaker tributes while we're still in the pack. Besides, you never know what the Gamemakers will throw at us. Maybe some mutt will just kill Natalia and we won't have to worry about it."

Jayce grinned. "Then we can start worrying about Sef and Sterling," he said. "Hey, d'ya want to take Rosalie with us when we leave? I don't trust 1 or 2, and the little girl will probably be dead by then, but we could use a third in case we run into Natalia and Company again."

Savannah shook her head. "I don't trust Rosalie. She knows that she's our weakest link, except for Sierra, and Natalia only wanted her for sponsors, so I think she'll want to ditch the pack, maybe even sooner than we do. I wouldn't put it past her to slit a few throats and take some stuff when she does. If we take her with us, she could take one or both of us out in our sleep, easy."

Jayce nodded. "I guess that's true. We'll just have to play it by ear," he said, stepping off of the bridge into the cold, fluffy snow that surrounded the Cornucopia. The rest of the Careers were already grouped around the bright red thing that was still overflowing with presents. He and Savannah hurried through the snow to rejoin the others.

"So, earlier you were pretty eager to unwrap these, little girl," Natalia was saying. "Go ahead and pick a present and open it over there." At these words, Sierra's face lit up with excitement and she hurried to comply, snatching up a medium-sized box wrapped in paper adorned with pine trees decorated with little colored balls. "Savannah, make sure the girl doesn't get away," Natalia ordered. Savannah smiled and nodded, patting the pocket in her coat that contained her throwing stars.

Near the edge of the clearing, Sierra stopped and plopped down in the snow, ecstatically tearing the wrapping paper off of the box before fixing the tape that kept the box shut with a pouty glare. Sighing, Sef made his way across the circle of metal plates and handed the little girl a knife. Jayce could see Savannah stick her hand in her pocket, ready to grab and throw a star before Sierra could even stand up to run away. Once she had conquered the tape, Sierra reached delightedly into the box and pulled out… a hat. At least, Jayce _thought_ it was a hat. It looked like some sort of twisted cross between a sock and a cap. It was red, with a white border and a white pom-pom on its pointy end. He had absolutely no idea why the Gamemakers would put _that_ in a box. Though, he had been pretty sure he had seen a kid pull a teddy bear out of a box during the Bloodbath.

Though Sierra unwrapped all too many similarly-useless items, including a dollhouse and a bright pink box that turned out to be full of princess dresses, she did find some good loot in the boxes left at the Cornucopia. Among these things were a few tridents that Jayce eagerly claimed, an enormous supply of food, several very nice swords, a good-sized pile of knives, a couple of bows, medical supplies, several lengths of rope that Jayce eyed happily, and other survival supplies. The bounty from the Cornucopia would probably last at least a month, Jayce realized. Who knew that living in an Arena would be so comfortable?

As they sorted through the supplies Sierra had unwrapped, Natalia looked almost disappointed that Sierra was still alive. That Vince guy from 5 had had some serious bad luck, unwrapping the only explosive present in the Game. Unless some other tribute had inherited his bad luck and had grabbed a present with similarly dangerous contents.

But for now, Jayce could sit back and relax in his very cozy-looking sleeping bag until that night. Sure, he was in the Hunger Games, but life was pretty darn good.

* * *

On the opposite end of the Arena, Piper Alexander didn't exactly share Jayce's optimistic mood. She was exhausted, and her shoulder was throbbing where Natalia's knife had cut it during the Bloodbath. She had been following these enormous tracks for hours, but she wasn't sure how much longer she could keep going. She needed to find a place to stop and rest.

Just as she thought this, she heard a tearing sound- like a present being unwrapped. Piper froze. There was a tribute just ahead of her- probably the one whose tracks she had been following. Her heart pounding, Piper took a few cautious steps forward, shielded herself behind a pine tree, and then glanced around its trunk. Sure enough, just ahead of her, barely visible through the thick trees, sat a tribute. It was the giant-boy from 10. Piper had suspected this- who else could possibly have feet _that_ big?- but the sight of Tasi Merkava still made her heart plummet. He was enormous; he could probably crush her with one bare hand. Honestly, Piper was surprised that he hadn't joined the Career pack this year.

So, now that she had found the tribute she'd been tailing, what should she do? Piper knew that she could probably get away undetected, but would it be better to talk to Tasi? Having an ally with that kind of strength would definitely be a plus. But, then again, if he didn't want to be allies, she would be dead for sure. Piper decided that talking to him just wasn't worth the risk. Still, there wasn't any reason why she couldn't continue to follow Tasi. If they ran into mutts or another tribute, Tasi could just take care of the danger, and she wouldn't have to be seen. He'd never even know she was there. Piper smiled. Her plan was brilliant, if she did say so herself (which she did.) Plus, now that she'd caught up with Tasi, she could take her desperately-needed rest break. Things were definitely looking up.

* * *

_**A/N: Sorry for the late update! I've been buried in my Percy Jackson books for the last few days. I was reading a PJO fic with Piper and Leo in it, and I was like, wait, who are these guys? So then I found out there were two books I hadn't read, so naturally I had to reread the whole series before continuing on to the next two XD. **_

_**I know that the ending to this chapter wasn't the best, but the next scene I'm going to write has to be in the next chapter cuz it's really long and all of the other scenes are based on that. I hope that this chapter was okay, though. It's the calm before the storm :)**_

_**VERY important: I won't be able to update until at least the 1**__**st**__** of August. There, I said it. Feel free to hate me. I'm going to visit a friend, and I can't take the laptop because I share it with my mom. I'll try to start on the next chapter tonight after I post this one so I remember what I'm going to write. I'm pretty sure my friend has wifi, so I should be able to reply to PMs, but I'm not positive. **_

_**Thanks so much to everyone who is still reading this :)**_

_**~ Lily **_


	23. Rudolph, The RedNosed Killer

**Hope- The 18****th**** Hunger Games**

* * *

"They should have destroyed each other last night," Ambrosius Tax muttered, his dark eyes flashing. President Ezekiel Snow nodded grimly, seated next to the Head Gamemaker in their private observation room. "The pair from 4 should have faced off against District 2 and the boy from 1. The Careers should have been ripped apart."

"But they weren't," President Snow said evenly, fixing Ambrosius with a piercing stare.

Ambrosius took a deep breath. "This can't be allowed to continue. A group of 8 when there are only fifteen tributes left in the Arena. It'll make the Games far too predictable."

President Snow raised his eyebrows. "So what are you going to do about it?"

A thin smile played across Ambrosius's lips as he replied. "I think it's time for them to meet my newest creations."

* * *

Rosalie Aduriza yawned as she dragged her feet through the deep snow, narrowly dodging a branch that had whipped back into place when Sef, who was walking in front of her, had released it. She then proceeded to walk straight into an especially prickly pine tree. Busy yawning, she hadn't seen Sef duck around it. After unsticking herself from the sharp branches, Rosalie hurried to catch up to Sef. Natalia, who was in front, didn't stop for stragglers. Rosalie knew that she had to be very careful not to antagonize the tiny Career. That girl was a loose cannon, and Rosalie didn't trust her one bit. Unless trusting the smaller girl to kill her on a moment's notice counted. Somehow, Rosalie didn't think that it did.

Naturally, Rosalie hadn't slept a wink last night. If she had, even _Sierra_ would have been able to slit her throat without blinking an eye. Seeing as she didn't exactly have a death wish, Rosalie hadn't been dumb enough to put her life in the hands of her "allies." She didn't trust any of them any more than she trusted Natalia. She had only accepted Natalia's invitation to the Careers because she had known that denying it would be like signing her own death warrant.

Being part of the Careers wasn't much safer, but it did have its perks. It had been a struggle not to fall asleep last night, wrapped up in her mummy sleeping bag by the hot embers of the fire they had used to melt snow and heat water. They had found packets of a dry brown powder in their food supplies and, upon feeding it to Sierra, they had discovered that it was chocolate. Adding it to their hot water produced a crude form of the heavenly _hot chocolate_ that Rosalie had drunk back in the Capitol. Needless to say, she had been quite comfortable on her first night in the Arena. Rosalie knew that she would have to be careful not to fall into a false sense of security.

Well, at least she wouldn't have to worry about that while they were busy hiking through the snow on what would probably turn out to be a wild goose chase. That morning, they had packed up enough supplies in backpacks from their camp at the Cornucopia to last a few days and, at Natalia's "suggestion", they had chosen a set of smaller footprints and started to follow them, hoping to track down the tributes that had created them. The path Natalia had selected looked like it had been made by three, maybe four tributes. The tiny Career had picked this one almost immediately, saying that the shrimp from 12, the one who somehow scored a 7, was probably part of the group. Natalia seemed intent on tracking the little girl down. Rosalie couldn't fathom why, but she knew better than to question the Career. She had to wait until the opportune moment to turn against her allies. Unfortunately, this meant she had to swallow her pride until then.

_Thump! _Rosalie's face really was taking a beating today. Except this time, she had walked into Sef, instead of a tree. She hadn't noticed the boy stop in front of her, for she had been busy thinking about her plans for betraying the Careers. She _really _needed to focus. After muttering an apology, Rosalie glanced around Sef's enormous frame to see what had made him stop.

Just in front of the Career, the dense forest opened up into a clearing that was only lightly dusted with snow. But the clearing itself wasn't the extraordinary sight; it was its occupants. Along with Natalia, Sparkle, and Sterling, nine animals stood, quietly munching at the frozen tips of grass they had uncovered by pawing at the snow. They looked a lot like the pictures of deer that Rosalie had seen back in District 5, except they were larger, all of them had antlers, and they each had a different word, probably their names, written in white on their rumps. And one of them had a bright red nose. They had to be mutts.

Sierra's whining voice came from just behind Rosalie. "What _is_ it?" she moaned, looking around Rosalie just as Rosalie had done Sef. When she caught sight of the creatures, she gasped with delight. "Deeries!" she cried, shoving past Rosalie and Sef and running into the clearing. The reindeer labeled _Prancer_ looked up disinterestedly at the blonde ball of energy advancing on it before going back to its grass. Rosalie held her breath, walking forward into the clearing behind Sef while Sierra drew ever-closer to the herd of creatures. Prancer looked up again. Sierra was only five feet from it. Prancer snorted. Sierra seemed to miss the fact that fire shot out of the animal's nostrils. Prancer flexed his neck so that his antlers were pointed straight towards Sierra as the little girl reached out her hand to pet him. Sierra didn't seem to notice that, either. Time seemed to move in slow motion as Sierra's hand drew ever closer to Prancer's face. _"Don't do it," _Rosalie breathed. Sierra touched him.

The air suddenly filled with Sierra's screams as Prancer impaled her with his horns, which turned out to be razor-sharp. As the little girl's body crumpled, the other reindeer set into action, charging at the seven remaining tributes, all of whom were now in the clearing. Regretting very much that it was her only weapon, Rosalie whipped out her dagger. She then looked up to see Blitzen advancing on her, his antlers extended, his nostrils spouting fire. He moved incredibly fast; Rosalie barely had time to orient herself before he was on her, knocking her several feet back into the snow with his legs as he reared. _This is it,_ she thought as she held her dagger out in front of her in a feeble attempt to protect herself from the reindeer's flailing hooves and deadly antlers. But just as she thought this, a spear appeared smack in the middle of the mutt's chest, causing it to collapse into the snow.

Shouting her thanks to Sef, Rosalie got to her feet. There were still eight more mutts to kill. Taking a firmer hold on her dagger and abandoning caution to the wind, Rosalie charged into the fray, slashing at any piece of reindeer flesh she could see. More than once she knew that one of her allies saved her from getting wounded. But at the moment, she didn't care. She was fighting for survival. She barely felt it when one of Comet's antlers created a gash in her arm when she didn't dodge fast enough. For the moment, it appeared that the tributes were gaining the upper hand in the battle. But that feeling of elation would short-lived. For several minutes, Rosalie had had the distinct impression that the reindeer could move a whole lot faster than she could, and that they could end up at places without fighting their way through the fray to get there. Jayce's shout confirmed her worst fears.

"They bloody _FLY?!" _he roared, stabbing the one labeled _Donner_, who had been hovering behind him, ready to strike.

"Afraid so!" Rosalie shouted as she whipped around to check her own back. Seeing no threat, she turned to face front again, only to meet the piercing gaze of Natalia, who was fighting pretty close to her. Somehow, the way that Natalia was smiling made Rosalie feel that she was in trouble. _Deep _trouble.

Rosalie wrenched her eyes away from Natalia's- just in time. For the second time in ten minutes, Rosalie was suddenly bowled over by a reindeer muttation who had charged at her left side. This time, it the one with the glowing red nose that threatened her. It actually looked almost comical as it stared down at her, its bright red nose flashing and emitting a strange beeping sound. But that didn't make it any less deadly. And it didn't change the fact that Sef and one of his spears wasn't there to help. Though there were only two other reindeer still alive, Rosalie knew that she was alone. Her "allies" wouldn't save her. Honestly, there was no reason for them to. She was only a burden to them, alive.

_This is really it,_ she thought as she parried Rudolph's first attack with her knife, almost managing to slice off one of his antlers. But she winced as his fire-breath scorched her face, and she knew that she wouldn't last much longer. She was already tiring, and it seemed like the mutt was only gaining energy. She wondered if it was a flesh-eating reindeer.

They say that your life flashes before your eyes right before you die. All Rosalie could do was wonder what barbecued human tasted like without the barbecue sauce before her vision went black.

Good thing she wasn't dead- that would be a simply _lovely _last thought. She simply couldn't see because of the massive body that was crushing her and obstructing her vision. Rosalie struggled to throw off Rudolph's dead body so she could thank whoever it was who had saved her. When she saw the gleaming metal of a throwing star protruding from the reindeer's chest, Rosalie looked up to meet Savannah's eyes and smiled. She would thank her better later.

Groaning, Rosalie slowly pulled herself to her feet, her heart still pounding and her head spinning. She staggered over to join the others, who were grouped at the edge of the clearing. After pausing to make sure that all of the reindeer mutts were dead, she slumped in the snow next to Jayce.

"Well…" Rosalie said, still breathing heavily.

"That was unexpected." Jayce finished, nodding.

"Honestly… Mutts, I can see, but this early in the Game? And, seriously, _nine_ of them. Who can breathe fire. And fly. Lovely mid-morning adventure," Rosalie groaned.

"I'm starting to think that training wasn't so bad," Jayce said. "I never really saw the point to most of the exercises they made us do. But, well, I guess they did prepare us for _everything_."

"Even flying, fire-breathing reindeer mutts?" Rosalie asked, grinning. Suddenly everything seemed so much lighter, now that she was sure that she would live through the next few minutes.

"Even those," Jayce chuckled.

"How long do you think Natalia will let us rest?" Rosalie asked, changing the subject.

"Probably as long as it takes her to get Sparkle moving," Jayce replied, rolling his eyes. At Rosalie's perplexed look, Savannah, who was lying flat on her back next to Jayce, explained.

"Sterling's dead," she said in a monotone. Her face was stained with tears. Though Savannah was clearly distraught, Rosalie's insides leapt at the news. Sterling was dead. That was one big obstacle out of the way- one real Career down. Now, if District 4 and District 2 could just wipe each other out… But just as she thought this, Rosalie felt awful. She'd been in the Arena for one day- just _one_ day- and already she was delighting in others' deaths.

"Sparkle's pretty upset," Jayce said, bringing Rosalie back to reality.

"Yeah," she said. "Same district. Did she know him?"

"I don't think so," Jayce replied, shaking his head. "But still, he _was_ from her district. And, sorry, but _you_ cried when Vince got blown up."

Rosalie's lips tightened. "I knew him," she said simply. At this, Jayce shot her an apologetic look and grew quiet. They then sat for several minutes in silence, the only noise being Sparkle's continuous racking sobs. Her voice was even higher-pitched when she was upset. While they sat, Rosalie pressed several handfuls of cold snow to her arm. Now that her adrenaline rush was fading, it was beginning to throb where she had gotten slashed by one of the mutts. Thankfully, it was much milder than it could have been. The several layers of clothing that she wore had offered some protection from the mutt's antlers. Still, Rosalie thought that she would probably look for first-aid kit they had packed when they stopped for the night. She definitely did _not _need an infected arm. With her luck, the mutts' antlers would turn out to be poisonous.

In the meantime, she decided that she would make the most of their brief rest. She wouldn't be getting any sleep that night.

* * *

"You know, there are only fifteen of us left," Gray Wilson said as she, Leila, and Cherry huddled together at the base of a rather large pine tree. After walking for hours the previous day, they had decided that that spot was as good as any and had gone ahead and set up camp. Of course, there hadn't really been much to set up. In fact, their version of the chore consisted simply of plopping in the snow wherever they decided that they wanted "camp" to be.

Unfortunately, having so simple a camp came with some disadvantages. The Arena was cold during the day. It had been absolutely freezing at night. Though their coats had kept them from getting hypothermia, the three had been forced to huddle together in the hopes of getting any sleep at all. More than once, Ambrosius the stuffed horse had been cursed for not being a blanket or a sleeping bag.

"G-g-good," Leila said, her teeth chattering. Her normally pale face looked almost blue from the cold. "I really need to get out of here. Or die. I've heard that hell is warm."

Gray snorted. "Maybe the Gamemakers will send us a fire-breathing dragon. It'd be a first-class ticket to the hottest corner of it." The other two girls laughed.

"Hey, any other tribute would be just as effective," Cherry said. "I mean, we've got 12 of them to worry about. And, with our simply _wonderful_ luck, six of them are Careers."

"Yeah, I know," Leila said. "Plus, don't forget the boy from 7. He basically said he'd kill anyone on sight during his interview. _And_ there's the giant from your district, Gray. He could probably crush all three of us without breaking a sweat."

"But he wouldn't," Gray said, shaking her head. "Tasi wouldn't hurt a fly unless it was dumb enough to bite him. Then, yeah, it would be mincemeat. I don't think any of us would be that thick, so we don't have to worry about him."

"D'ya think we came far enough yesterday?" Cherry asked, an edge of worry creeping into her voice. "I mean, the Careers might have left the Cornucopia last night, so they could be right on our tails. They can probably walk a whole lot faster than we can."

"I don't know," Leila replied, her tone shifting to match Cherry's. "They could be anywhere. And you're right- they'll move way faster than we do. There are three of us, so there's actually a pretty big chance that they're following our trail. They'll want to take out as many tributes as possible, as quickly as possible."

"Too true," Gray muttered. "I'd say that it's not likely that they're coming after us but, well, I thought I'd never get reaped." The other two girls nodded grimly. After a few moments, Leila broke the silence.

"We should get moving," she said. "It'll warm us up, and I think our trip to hell can wait a few days." Gray and Cherry smiled and got to their feet, brushing off the powdery snow that clung to their clothes. Gray picked up Ambrosius the stuffed horse and Cherry grabbed their cardboard box. The three girls then set off down the mountain, fleeing a threat that was much closer than any of them realized.

* * *

Desmond Chordus was also on the move, trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and the other tributes. Yes, he was prepared to kill if he did run across another person. He just hoped that it wouldn't be necessary.

Though, if he was honest with himself, Desmond knew that, if he hoped to come out of these Games alive, he would have to take the life of at least one other tribute. In this Game, only the strongest would survive. It would boil down to a simple case of "them or us." And Desmond knew that, given the choice between survival and death, he would choose survival.

He wasn't only concerned for himself. He couldn't let his parents lose another son. After they had lost his little brother Jeremiah to the forest several years ago, they had become even more protective of their only other child. When he had been reaped, they had been devastated, thinking that their other baby wouldn't be coming home to them. Desmond was out to prove them wrong.

He was confident that the strategy he had devised with his mentor would allow him to do just that. By refusing allies, he eliminated the threat of being stabbed in the back. By swearing to kill any tribute on sight, he ensured that the weaker tributes would give him a wide berth. By actually following through on his threat, he would be taking out the obstacles that stood in his path to victory.

Some sixth sense told Desmond that he would have to make good on his words earlier than he had planned. Several times, he could have sworn he heard sounds of movement from somewhere in the trees off to his left. He couldn't see very far through the dense forest, so he couldn't tell whether the source of the noise was a harmless squirrel or another tribute. It could just be a product of his imagination. But somehow, he didn't think it was.

A loud _crack! _sounded off to Desmond's left, and he cracked his neck painfully when he whipped around to stare into the trees that the noise had come from. The trees looked exactly the same as they had for the last several hours; they revealed no clue as to the source of the noise. But this time, Desmond was _sure_ that some living creature had caused the cracking sound he had heard moments before. And it definitely wasn't a squirrel. It could easily be a tribute. Or a mutt.

So now, Desmond was faced with a difficult decision: to hunt or to hide.

Desmond took a deep breath and plunged into the trees, heading towards the source of the noise.

* * *

_**A/N: Sorry for the late update! I got back from my trip last night. It was pretty awesome :). Thanks for being so patient while I was busy having a blast on vacation :P. **_

_**It totally made my day to see all of the reviews I had when I checked a couple of nights ago! (one of the hotels had free wifi.) Thanks to all of you who reviewed. You're all pretty darn awesome :). I did get one anonymous review, so I'm just going to reply to it here in the Author's Note. **_

**WolfOnATreadmill: Thank you so much! Yeah, I like Gray too :). We'll just have to wait and see what happens to her in the Arena ;). **

_**Anyways, I now have the whole plot mapped out, except for the most important part: the victor. I'll post a new poll once we've cut down on the number of tributes. But, this does mean that I'll have to spend less time thinking so I'll be able to write faster. So you can look for the next update soon!**_

_**Sorry for the mega-Author's Note XD. Thanks to those of you with the patience to read the entire thing :). **_

_**Lots of love,**_

_**Lily**_


	24. Of Pine Nuts and Prayers

**Hope- The 18****th**** Hunger Games**

* * *

As Brett di Angelo walked down the brightly lit hallway, swinging his bag of recently acquired edibles and whistling to himself, he thought that, really, these Games weren't too bad. Thanks to Cecelia, he'd been able to sleep for half of last night, and the caffeine from his coffee was already starting to kick in. He didn't much care about Sparkle, but Sterling was doing well, so he had even been able to go for a quick walk to stretch his legs and grab a mid-morning snack. It hadn't been quite as relaxing as he'd hoped- he'd run into a batty old woman, who had been demanding to see Cecelia _immediately, _near the vending machines, but he'd been able to shake the lady off after about ten minutes.

When he turned the next corner, Brett abruptly stopped whistling. He could be within earshot of the Arena Observation Room where he, Cecelia, and Sparkle had set up their 'camp', of sorts. He couldn't be heard _whistling_. It wouldn't do his image as a Career any favors. So, after checking to make sure that no one had heard him, he continued down the hallway and took a left. He then walked to the end of that hallway and turned to open the door on the very end, pressing his palm on to a touch pad to unlock it. When the metal door slid open, the sight that greeted him was most definitely not quite as pleasant as his walk had been.

His friend Cecelia, District 4's only mentor, was pacing frantically back and forth across the room, muttering to herself, and Brett felt that he could almost cut the tension in the room with the knife he had concealed in his sleeve. When Cecelia saw him, she stopped pacing immediately and turned rigidly to face him, her face paling considerably.

"Erm… hello, Brett…" she said as Brett entered the room, the metal doors sliding shut behind him.

"Hullo, Cecelia," he replied, plopping down in his favorite squashy black armchair situated in the middle of the room, his back to the screen showing his own tributes. He leaned back in the chair and opened the bag of potato chips he had brought from the vending machine. "Anything interesting happen while I was gone?" Brett asked.

Cecelia gulped. "Well, now that you ask… yes," she said nervously.

Brett snorted. "What, did a tree decide to finally shut that stupid girl up? Did the _snow_ decide to melt and drown them or something?" He smiled at his own joke and popped another potato chip into his mouth.

"No, not that," Cecelia said. She then took a deep breath and ploughed on. "There were mutts. Reindeer mutts that they ran into in a clearing."

At this news, Brett slowly lowered his next potato chip back into the bag, incredulous. He wasn't sure if he had heard Cecelia right. Seeing mutts this early in the Games was unheard of. "Are you serious?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Dead." Cecelia said grimly. "And, speaking of that, Sterling kind of kicked the bucket while you were busy getting potato chips."

Brett spit his mouthful of half-eaten chips all over Sparkle, who had been sitting on one of the couches. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. "_What?!"_ he asked, shocked.

"Sterling is dead," Cecelia said matter-of-factly while Sparkle squealed in indignation.

Brett shut his mouth, ignoring his partner, and his other eyebrow shot up into the air to join the first. "How the hell did _that _happen?" he asked.

"I already told you," Cecelia said. "They ran across a herd of flying, fire-breathing reindeer mutts!"

"You're telling me that Sterling was stupid enough to get himself killed by a bunch of _deer?_" Brett asked. His eyebrows were now in danger of disappearing into his hair.

Cecelia nodded grimly. "Yup. Apparently he thought it would be a good idea to rush into the middle of the fight. Didn't watch his back. There was nothing I could do."

"The boy really w_as_ an idiot," Brett commented dryly, resuming his potato chip eating. "Good riddance. We didn't need a matched set," he continued, with a meaningful look at Kaleida, who was now chatting on her cell-phone and applying yet another layer of lip gloss, having simply slipped off her chip-covered jacket to reveal a bejeweled top. "I don't suppose the mutts got Sparkle, too?" Brett asked, almost hopefully.

Cecelia smiled humorlessly. "Nope. But they did get the little girl from 6. She was the one who set them off. She was stupid enough to try and _pet_ the beasts."

Brett snorted. "The little girl who got the zero? Figures. I'm surprised she survived the first thirty seconds. Is the shrimp from 12 still alive?"

"Yeah, she is," Cecelia replied. "She's heading toward the Cornucopia from the little valley now. I think she's after supplies."

Brett nodded. This made sense. If the girl wanted to have any hope of surviving, she'd need stuff: food, blankets, a decent weapon… and seriously good luck. "And the girl from 3? The one who should have died in the Bloodbath?"

"You mean Piper?" Cecelia asked. Brett nodded. "Yeah, she's alive, but maybe not for long. The boy from 7 is coming towards her and the giant from 10 pretty fast. And I'm guessing that 7 is pretty good with those axes he carries."

"Yeah, probably," Brett said, pulling a lever in his chair so that a footrest appeared. He leaned back in the chair and sighed contentedly. Now that Sterling was dead, all of the stress of the Games was gone. The boy might have had potential, had he possessed more than a teaspoon's worth of common sense. Sparkle wasn't even worth the effort of _trying_ to keep alive. "Do you know how close axe-boy is to the other tributes?" Brett asked, directing his attention to the screen displaying the male tribute from 7, Desmond Chordus.

"Should be running in to them just about now," Cecelia said, rolling a chair over to sit in front of the screen next to Brett.

Indeed, the screen that the two mentors were now viewing showed a burly boy hiking through the snowy pine forest, zig-zagging through the trees and swiveling his head this way and that, apparently looking for something. The map of the Arena that was bolted into the coffee table in between the mentors' chairs showed that Desmond's little flashing red dot was almost on top of two others'.

The boy on the screen suddenly stopped, and the reason for this was apparent immediately. A loud _crack!_ had sounded from both the screen showing Desmond and from the main screen- the one that showed whatever the rest of Panem was seeing at the moment. Cecelia and Brett shifted their gazes to the massive television that dominated the far end of the room. It now showed Tasi, the enormous boy from 10, who was rubbing his head, having just knocked it on a branch, cracking the stick right in half. Brett could also just barely see the pale girl from 3, who was trailing about 15 feet behind Tasi, concealing herself behind a tree trunk so that the boy couldn't possibly see her. Contrast to the giant's, her movement was almost silent.

Tasi started to move again about half a minute after he had split the branch with his head. Soon after he had resumed walking, however, Brett started to hear a muffled crunching that seemed to be coming from somewhere out of the camera's range. The boy appeared to have noticed the noise, too, for he stopped once again and looked up over his right shoulder where the sound was apparently coming from. Sensing a threat, the giant-boy attempted to conceal himself behind a tree trunk, though, due to his bulk, he was altogether unsuccessful. Piper, however, was nearly invisible, having never left her hiding spot since Tasi had broken the branch. The crunching sound- a sound that Brett now recognized as the tread of a person through heavy snow- continued to intensify for the next few moments. Then its source appeared.

Desmond Chordus walked on to the screen, marching purposefully and looking every which way for the source of the cracking noise he had heard less than a minute ago. When his eyes lit on the form of Tasi, his mouth twisted into a grim smile. "If you had any sense, you'd be running right now," he said.

"I guess that means you don't want to be allies," Tasi said mournfully, abandoning his attempt at hiding at straightening up, stepping out into the open.

"No," Desmond said simply. "I'm sorry, Tasi." His hands then moved so quickly that even the fastest tribute in the Games would have been hard-pressed to escape his attack. In a heartbeat, Desmond had drawn one of his axes from his make-shift backpack, drawn back his throwing arm, and released the weapon, sending it spending towards Tasi. The other boy didn't stand a chance. No matter how big he was, Natalia was right. A blade to the heart killed him just as easily as it would take out any other tribute. Tasi was dead before he hit the snow.

* * *

Piper Alexander gasped. She had just watched another tribute be murdered right before her eyes. During the Bloodbath, her face had been pressed into the ground the entire time; she hadn't been able to see a thing. But here, now, she really was watching the scarlet blood that had sustained Tasi's all-too-short life pour out into the snow, his killer still standing over him. But wait… _his killer. _Piper covered her mouth, realizing her mistake too late. Her heart pounding, as though it knew that it could easily meet the same fate as Tasi's, Piper pressed herself flat against the pine tree she was hiding behind, praying to every god that had ever existed that Desmond wouldn't catch sight of her. Nobody had ever really noticed her before, back home in the orphanage. It would be just ironic for her to finally gain attention when her life depended on remaining unseen.

One second passed. Piper was holding her breath, not daring to take the action for fear that the noise would alert Desmond. Another second passed. Desmond crouched down to pull the axe out of Tasi's unmoving chest. Piper winced as she heard several cracks: Tasi's ribs breaking as the weapon was extracted. She allowed herself a quick breath, counting on the noise to cover the sound of her protesting lungs. After freeing it, Desmond wiped his axe in the snow, spreading the stain of red that had now surrounded Tasi. He then stood up and slipped the axe back into a makeshift 'backpack' he had created out of a cardboard box and lots of ribbon. Instead of moving on, however, Desmond simply stood, rooted to the spot for a few moments, staring down at the boy he had just killed. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but he then quickly shut it, drew his knife, and hurried away from the scene.

Once he was out of sight, Piper let out the breath she had been holding, relief flooding through her. Desmond had not seen her. She was still alive. So much for her brilliant plan… In the end, Tasi had been about as useless as the pine trees when it came to keeping danger _away_ from her. It was awful that he'd had to die, but Piper found light in the fact that it had been almost painless. Had the lunatic Career from 2 run across the boy, Piper really didn't want to think of what Natalia would have done to Tasi. She would have wanted to make a big show of his death- the smallest Career killing the largest tribute in the Arena.

Piper slowly lowered herself to the ground. Her head was spinning with the images of both Tasi's death and her own future demise. She was crumpled on the ground, one of Desmond's axes protruding from her chest. She was getting ripped apart by a pack of chipmunk muttations. Her neck was being wrung by Sef. She was decapitated by Sterling. She was hopelessly entangled in one of Jayce's nets. How many other ways could she die in here? How long could she hide before the Careers found her? Would it be better to just let go now, on her own terms? Before Natalia could get her hands on her? Before those Capitol bastards would have time to enjoy her death? Piper fingered the knife that she had placed in one of her jacket's pockets. It would be so easy to just… and she would be out like a light. Just like that.

The dagger was already out of her pocket before Piper realized what she was doing. _No! _she mentally shouted to herself, stilling her arm's motion. She was _not_ giving up now, now that she'd come so far. Half of the tributes were gone, and, with any luck, the Careers would kill off most of them before (hopefully) taking out each other.

Piper looked down at the knife that was still clenched in her hand, horrified. _I'm a coward, _she thought. She'd only been in this Arena for one day, and yet already she was on the verge of giving up. Of letting the Capitol win. Piper slowly slid the blade back into her pocket, silently vowing never to draw it again, except to protect her own life. She'd fought to survive for 17 years in District 3. She was going to come home alive.

With that thought, Piper rose to her feet and traipsed over to the set of footprints that Desmond had left before discovering Tasi. Stepping into the indentations in the snow, Piper started to hurry along them, in the direction opposite the way Desmond had gone. She had a feeling that the other boy would be suspicious if a hovercraft didn't come for Tasi's body soon, and traveling in another tribute's footprints would hopefully help to conceal her own.

Escaping Desmond was only the first step in Piper's master plan- the one she had concocted just moments earlier, after regaining her will to live. It was quite simple, really. While all of the other tributes were busy killing each other, she could just hang out in the trees, munching on pine bark and snow. It wouldn't be pleasant, of course, but she would survive. That is, if she didn't run into any complications along the way.

* * *

Sea Jackson was traveling quickly- so quickly, in fact, that she was red in the face and breathing quite heavily. She was in rather a hurry.

She had spent all of the previous night in one of the valley's pine trees, sleeping fitfully . Nightmares of Elijah's crumpled body had plagued her. She had relived her killing of her district partner more times in one night than she would care to count. Sea knew that, even if she lived to be 100, the memory of killing Elijah would never leave her. The valley where it had happened had become a place of nightmares. Sometimes, Sea hadn't been sure whether she was awake or dreaming. She had to get out. Immediately.

There were reasons besides the demons of her dreams that motivated Sea to leave the valley that had been her refuge on her first day in the Arena. For one, it was kind of a dumb place to make into your "refuge." There was no escaping it. It was a natural prison of sorts, surrounded by hills on three sides. If she were discovered by another tribute or some other thing bent on killing her, Sea knew that she would never be able to make out of the valley alive.

Her future destination would also significantly increase her chances of survival. Either that, or it would be the cause of her death. Sea was headed straight for the Cornucopia. She desperately needed the supplies that a visit there would warrant. At the moment, she was armed with nothing but a tiny knife, a bar of chocolate, and a cardboard box. Against a Career or a mutt, she wouldn't stand a chance. Unless, of course, she could distract it with the chocolate long enough to run away _really _fast. But if her trip to the Cornucopia was successful, Sea wouldn't have to run away any more. She was after a bow. If she had one of those puppies, she would go from a speed bump to a real threat in the Arena. She would be able to defend herself.

Naturally, however, a trip to the Cornucopia came with a _slight _risk of dying a horrible, painful death. If the Careers had left a guard or if, Snow forbid, the entire pack was there, Sea would be mincemeat. Toast. Chop sui. She would be like a bar of chocolate in the hands of her friend Adrielle. She wouldn't stand a chance.

…all this talk of food was making Sea hungry. Her stomach rumbled, _loudly, _and she decided that the risk would definitely be worth taking. With a bow, she could maybe hunt down some of the annoying squirrels that had insisted on bombing her with pine nuts all last night. She'd heard that squirrels were good eating. With the pine nuts as a side dish and pine bark to serve as bread, she could actually make a half decent meal. Halfway decent, of course, considering that she was in the _Hunger _Games.

* * *

_**A/N: So sorry for the late update! RL is crazy. Insane. PM me if you want the whole story. It'd end up longer than this chapter…**_

_**I know that this chapter is on the dull side, but, since the last chapter was so intense, I wanted to write one that was more on the whimsical side. I love writing Brett :). Thanks to for giving me the idea to write about his reaction to Sterling's death!**_

_**Look forward to more interesting stuff next chapter! I'll probably update on Friday, because Thursday will be absolutely crazy and it usually takes at least two days for me to write a halfway decent chapter. **_

_**Thanks to you, my readers! We're getting so close to the end! Believe it or not, we only have 12 tributes left. **_

_**Lots of love, **_

_**Lily **_


	25. The Fall of a Hero

**Hope- The 18****th**** Hunger Games**

* * *

"Did you hear that?" Gray Wilson asked, stopping her movement so abruptly that Cherry, who had been walking behind her, crashed headlong into her back.

"Oof!" Cherry said. "What'd you stop for?"

"I heard something," Gray replied, cocking her head to one side so she would have a better chance of catching, well, whatever she had heard, again. Leila, who hadn't noticed the other two stop because she was walking in front, turned around to see her allies standing, stock-still and tense, several paces behind her. Rolling her eyes, she made her way back to the other girls.

"_What?_" Leila asked, sighing when Cherry and Gray jumped at the sound of her voice. "Honestly…" Leila grumbled, earning death glares from her allies. The three stood like statues for nearly a minute. The silence that fell was broken only by their breathing. At yet another pointed look from Leila, Gray finally began to relax a little. Cherry, however, did not.

"I heard it too! I did!" she insisted. But, she allowed herself to be dragged away from the spot by Gray, who had decided that the noise was just a trick of her overactive imagination.

"You're just paranoid," Leila said, finally releasing Cherry's arm when she trusted the other girl to keep walking on her own.

"I am _not!_" Cherry squeaked indignantly. "Gray heard it too!" She then looked to said ally for support. Gray just shrugged.

"We probably just heard some squirrel," she said. Cherry glared at her, but Gray just smirked and hurried to catch up to Leila. Just seconds later, however, another noise stopped the three girls in their tracks.

"I don't think that squirrels can swear…" Cherry whispered, biting her lip nervously. Leila realized the truth first. Her eyes, which already appeared too big for her narrow face, appeared even bigger in fright.

"That sounded just like the big boy from 4," she said in a voice even lower than Cherry's. Gray quickly caught on to the awful truth.

"The Careers…" she breathed.

* * *

The Careers were indeed dangerously close to the three girls, though Jayce Holaway wasn't to know that. All he knew at the moment was that his face hurt. A _lot_. Savannah didn't seem to be able to find much sympathy for him. No, she was busy laughing her head off while he was left to drag himself out of the snow he had fallen into. She would be sorry for causing him to face-plant into a snow bank.

"I thought you were my friend…" Jayce grumbled as he brushed the snow off of his parka.

"Aww, is wittle Jaycie-poo feeling sorry for himself?" Savannah cooed, pinching Jayce's cheek. The older, and _much_ more mature, District 4 tribute answered.

"Yes," Jayce replied, with as much dignity as he could muster. "For a very good reason. It seems that you saw fit to _trip_ me in front of a very conveniently placed pile of snow. Would you care to explain yourself?"

Savannah grinned in return. "Too good an opportunity to pass up," she giggled. Jayce glared. "Aww, c'mon Jayce, you know you love me!" Savannah said. A moment later, both of their faces turned bright red. It turned out to be a convenient time for the silence to fall, albeit awkwardly, for they were soon met with the face of a highly ticked-off Natalia Elvin.

"Would the lovebirds care to _shut up?!_" she hissed. "We've spent all morning tramping through the woods for a _reason_, you know! Or are you really that _stupid?_"

"Hey!" Jayce protested. "My brain is working pretty well, thank you very much." Natalia raised one pale eyebrow at this response.

"We know, Natalia," Savannah said soothingly, glaring at Jayce as she did so. "We'll try and keep it down." Apparently Natalia deemed these words sufficient apology for, after nodding once, she spun on her heel and hurried through the snow to join Sef and Sparkle at the front of the pack.

"What's she got stuck up her ass?" Jayce asked.

"Language, Jayce," Savannah said, waving an accusatory finger but still grinning . "We're on national TV- your little sister could be watching!"

Jayce just shrugged. "I'm pretty sure I said worse after you _tripped me." _

Savannah was about to retort when they heard Sparkle's squeal from the front. "Seriously, guys, you need to, like, shut up! Natalia says so!" Savannah and Jayce both rolled their eyes and then grinned at each other. They could practically see the steam that was almost certainly billowing out of Natalia's ears.

* * *

_"Seriously, guys, you need to, like, shut up! Natalia says so!" _The District 1 bimbo's high-pitched squeal of a voice rang through the forest, almost certainly damaging the eardrums of anyone within a five-mile radius. Could the Careers possibly be any _less _obvious? Leila would have grinned had the present situation not been so serious.

At least the Careers were giving them a _very _clear warning of their imminent approach. It was just the "imminent approach" bit that worried Leila. It translated to "imminent demise."

"What are we going to do?" Cherry whispered frantically as the Careers' voices grew steadily louder. "We can't exactly hide," she said, gesturing to the snow that surrounded them. "And we'll never be able to outrun them."

Leila took a deep breath before she replied. "I'll distract them so you guys can get away."

"_What?!"_ Cherry squeaked, horrified. Leila cut off her protest.

"Listen. You both saw how my reaping was rigged. It's pretty obvious that the Capitol wants me dead. I'm not making it out of this Arena alive. One of you might." She paused to take a breath, and Gray seized the opportunity to cut Leila off.

"Don't be thick, Leila. The Capitol wants me dead just as much as they want you. I pretty sure I managed to royally piss off both Snow and Tax during my interview. I'm not coming home, either." Cherry watched the two girls argue, wide-eyed and powerless to intervene as they fought over who would sacrifice themselves for her.

"_You're _talking about being thick!" Leila hissed. "You can protect Cherry better. We both know that you're better at fighting than I am. You grew up gutting chickens, for Panem's sake! Just accept it and quit arguing. You're wasting the time that Cherry needs to get out of here."

Gray looked ready to argue, but the sheer determination in Leila's eyes stopped her. Rather, she said solemnly, "I swear on my life that Cherry will make it out of here."

Leila smiled. "Now quick! Get out of here! You don't have much time!" Cherry engulfed her friend in a hug, whispering her overwhelming gratitude while tears streamed down her face. Gray smiled a haunting smile of farewell, and the two girls were off, sprinting for their lives through the forest.

Leila smiled to herself as her friends disappeared from sight. "I'm sorry, Favian," she said to her brother, who would surely be watching her every move from back home. She then turned to face the Careers who would soon emerge from the dark jaws of the forest beyond.

* * *

Natalia Elvin smiled to herself as she sliced through yet another pine branch that stood in between her and the tributes she had been tailing. She was close, she knew it. Exactly _how _close, she couldn't say. At least not until she caught sight of the lone figure standing in a clearing that was just barely visible through the dense thicket of pine trees that surrounded it. Natalia's smile grew when she recognized the girl from 9. This one would be easy meat.

She slid through the trees like the serpent her father had always compared to. Her knives were her fangs, and she'd always had a silver tongue capable of talking her way out of any situation. Today, of course, she wouldn't need it. It would be that pathetic girl who would be begging for mercy. Natalia was silent as she lithely wove her way through the trees, moving so quickly that she left Sef and Sparkle far behind her, busy trying to hack their way through the thicket. Natalia smirked. While they were busy battling the forest, she would finally get to have her fun with a tribute. That stupid District 4 chick had stopped her killing Sierra before. There was no one to stop Natalia now.

A delighted smile made its way on to Natalia's lips as she stepped out into the clearing and saw that the girl hadn't moved. She was either totally oblivious or suicidal. Natalia really didn't care. She'd found her next kill.

* * *

_"Breathe,"_ Leila ordered herself as she watched the face she feared the most emerge from the trees. If she, Leila, panicked now, if she ran… Cherry and Gray might not get away. She had to buy them as much time as possible. Leila was relying on the Careers' bloodlust to distract them so much that they would forget that it would have taken more than one person to create the footprints they had been following. It was a long shot, Leila knew. But there _was_ a possibility that the Careers would go back to their base after they were finished with her.

"Hello, _scum_," Natalia said after she had let the last branch whip back into place. "What are you doing out here, all alone?" she asked, her thin smile widening.

"I came to see you," Leila answered, her face betraying no emotion. "I think it's time someone put you in your place." Maybe if she provoked Natalia enough, the other girl would spend more time talking, giving Cherry and Gray a couple of critical extra minutes.

"Ha!" Natalia scoffed. "As if you, a nobody from the _grain_ district, actually stood a chance against me. Keep dreaming, darling."

"Watch and learn," Leila said, struggling to hold the artificial smile she had plastered to her face. She then drew her dagger. "Go ahead. Try me."

Natalia let forth a cackle of laughter. "Gladly," she said, drawing a heavy-looking knife from one of her pockets. Leila tensed, watching Natalia draw back her throwing arm as if it were in slow motion. She shook with the realization that the tiny Career could kill her right here, right now. Guilt washed over Leila for thinking about her own well-being over her friends'. But there was nothing to do to prevent the rush of fear that surged through her as the knife flew out of Natalia's hand.

But it didn't hit her. Rather, Natalia's knife struck the blade of Leila's dagger, sending it spinning out into the snow. Leila was left weaponless. Natalia smirked. "Get off your high horse, District 9. I'm going to kill you now. And there's nothing you can do about it." Leila didn't even have time to be afraid before Natalia was on top of her, pinning her down into the snow, holding a dagger to her throat. "Still planning on putting me in my place?" she asked, putting a little bit of pressure on the dagger so that Leila could feel it cut through the thin layer of skin on her neck.

Leila didn't have to act this part. "N-n-no," she said, allowing the paralyzing fear she felt to wash over her features. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! Please!" she begged as Natalia's smile widened even more. It killed Leila to know that her family was watching this. Not only watching her die- watching her die sniveling like a baby, begging for mercy from a Career and, by extension, the Capitol. But Leila knew that it was time to swallow these feelings. The longer she begged, the longer it would take Natalia to kill her, and the longer Cherry and Gray would have to escape. Leila didn't have anything to live for anymore. So she was going to make sure that her death counted for something.

Natalia watched as tears began to pour out of the girl's eyes while she begged for mercy. District 9 knew that her life was in the hands of a Career. Natalia knew it, too. There was nothing like the feeling of holding someone completely and totally at her mercy. Like knowing that, with a simple slip of the hand, she could end someone's life forever. Natalia craved the feeling. She needed it. And now, she reveled in it.

"You know, I could spare you…" Natalia said, removing her blade from Leila's neck and instead beginning to trace circles on the girl's cheeks. She watched as a spark of hope appeared in the girl's deep blue eyes. Natalia then cackled in derision and drove her dagger into Leila's cheek, enlisting a scream from the girl. "But I think not," Natalia said, slashing the girl's other cheek. "I think that you need to be taught a lesson."

* * *

Rosalie heard the scream far before she saw its source. It was a scream of agony, far more than fear. It tore Rosalie's heart apart to hear it.

"Natalia," she heard Jayce mutter to Savannah. "She must've found them." Jayce was right. No one but Natalia could possibly do that to a fellow human being. Sometimes, Rosalie wondered if the tiny Career even qualified as one.

"We have to do something!" Rosalie heard Savannah urge. "We can't just let her do this!" At these words, Rosalie smiled grimly. Savannah had grown up in a sugar-coated world where she could afford to harbor an ideal vision of the world. Rosalie came from the richest family in District 5, it was true. But she had spent enough time in the slums to know what the harsh reality of life was. In Panem, you had to look out for yourself. Because no one was going to do it for you. The girl should've run faster.

"I know, Sav, it's awful," Jayce said. "But there's nothing we can do. Natalia would kill you if you got in her way."

"B-b-but…" Savannah spluttered, horrified. "She has to stop this! I'll kill her!"

"No!" Jayce cried. "No! Savannah, don't you see? Natalia'll kill you before you can even draw a star! She _wants _you to try and stop her!"

Savannah's eyes were blazing. "Are you saying that we should just do _nothing?!_" she asked, torn between fury and disbelief that her Jayce would be so heartless.

"Yes, Sav," Jayce said solemnly. Savannah glared at him and turned away, angry tears streaming down her face. Rosalie felt a stabbing sensation in her gut at the scene. They only had a few days left together, and yet they were busy fighting. She too turned away, but she then proceeded to weave her way through the trees. Once again, her curiosity was getting the better of her. She had to see exactly what Natalia was doing to her victim.

The sight that greeted Rosalie wasn't pretty. Natalia had a girl with auburn hair pinned down in the snow, helpless. The snow that surrounded the pair matched the hue of the district girl's hair. Rosalie could see that the girl's normally pale was also streaked with red. The girl's racking sobs rang throughout the clearing as Natalia raised her bloody knife. The look on the Career's face was one out of nightmares. Rosalie watched, horrified yet powerless to intervene as Natalia spun her knife deftly in the air.

"Any last words, _scum?_" Natalia asked as the metal gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight. The girl's enormous eyes now reflected the spinning weapon that would soon end her life.

"I want to tell my family that I love them," the girl choked. She then took a deep breath and moved her gaze from the twirling dagger to Natalia's malicious green eyes. "And, you should know that you're a bitch." she said through a mouthful of blood. Rosalie smiled, but then looked away from the scene. She didn't have to guess what would happen next. The girl's dying scream soon filled the clearing, accompanied by the sickening cracking of what sounded like ribs. Rosalie's stomach clenched at just the _mental _image.

At last, a terrible silence filled the clearing once again. Rosalie looked back to see Natalia wiping her dagger in the snow. The girl's bloodied corpse lay in the snow just feet from where Natalia now stood, gloating.

"Come on, guys!" she screeched delightedly, a sick sort of happiness evident in her features. "You crybabies can go ahead and come out into the open. The district trash isn't going to hurt you, I promise." The smile on her face was beyond unsettling. It assured Rosalie of two things. One: Natalia wouldn't hesitate to kill her in a heartbeat. And two: The girl would enjoy every last agonizing millisecond of Rosalie's death.

For one fleeting moment, Rosalie considered just not following Natalia's call. Of just slipping off into the forest. Staying with the Careers any longer was just too dangerous. But then she realized the utter stupidity of the idea. They would be after her in a minute, tops. And then Natalia would kill her like she had killed the auburn-haired girl. No, Rosalie would have to wait for the perfect opportunity. It just had to come soon. Then she smiled as she thought of the plan that could save her life.

"Tonight, I'm getting out of here," Rosalie reassured herself. She then hurried into the clearing to rejoin her enemies.

* * *

_**A/N: Again, I find myself in a situation where I need to apologize for a late update. What with moving and going back to my boarding school soon, life's been generally crazy. I'm actually supposed to be doing my homework right now…**_

_**Wow! That was the first Arena chapter I've written that's focused on just one main event. I hope you guys liked it :). I know that it was fun to write. **_

_**Poor heroic Leila :/. I really didn't want to kill her but, oh well. The Capitol does kind of want her dead. **_

_**Please, any feedback would be much appreciated! I'll try to update in a few days. Depends on how long it takes me to finish my AP World homework. **_

_**Lots of love,**_

_**Lily **_


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